S^^ 


^B>g>^^^>§>'^^^^^§--^^l 


^SiJ^\:SiN,\Si:g? 


JVil  desperandum. 


FRANCIS  M.  L.  PHELPS. 


Ji€€^€€€-€#€€li 


vr^^j. 


'%/ 


PRINCETON,  N.  J. 


\ 


Presented    h^^V&c\<S.\'\ oK"^ .  O-WoNd  <2/\\ 


Di^jision 


Srrtio)! 


I  /■!      "- 


ELEMENTS 

• — -',,■»• — •  '<f 

CRITICISM. 

WITH    THE 

AUTHOR'S  LAST  CORRECTIONS  AND  ADDITIONS, 

« 
firfi  ^mZXitmfrom  the  Seventh  JLonDOH  CtlltiOtt, 

VOL.     ir. 


oaoaon  t 

From  the  Prt  fsS 

.    Of  SAMUEL  ETHERIDGE, 

FqT  y.  WHITE^  THOMAS   £?  A-ArDREWS,    IV.  SPCTSff^OOD^ 
I>,  IVLST,    TV.  P>  BLAKE,  E.  LARKIN^    B  J.   WE^T^ 


yi  DCC  XCYI. 


*'*■ 


%0 


c:i^=====^^^^il-^^<'        ==^ 


ELEMENTS 


o  t 


CRITICISM. 


CHAPTER    XVIIL 


Beauty  of  Language. 

I  kJ  F  all  the  fine  arts,  painting  only  aiidl 
fculpture  are  in  their  nature  imitativei    An  orna-' 
mented  field  is  not  a  copy  or  imitation  of  nature,  but 
nature  itfelf  embelliihedi    |  Archite6t-ure  is  produc-1 
tive  of  originals!  and  copies  not  from  nature.  ySoundi 
and  motion  may  in  fome  meafure  be  imitated  by  mu-| 
fic  ;  but  for  the  moft  part  mufic,  like  architeclurej 
is  produdlive  of  originals.  /Languagejcopies  not  from 
nature,  more  than  mufic   or  architefture  ;   unlefs, 
"wherej/nkejnuficj-si^is  imitative  of  found  or  motion77 
(Thus,  m  the  defcription  of  particulgj  founds,  lan^ 
guage   fometimes   furnifheth   words,    which,    befide 
their  cuftomary  power  of  exciting  ideas,  refemble  by 
their  foftnefs  or  harflrnefs  the  founds  defcribed  ;  and 
there  are  words   which,  by    the    celerity  or  flownefs 
of  pronunciation,  have  fome  refemblance  to  the  mo- 
tion they  fignify.     The  imitative   power  of  words 
goes  one  flep  farther  :  ^e.  loftlnefs  of  fome  words  I 
makes  them  proper  fymfels  of  lofty  ideas  ;    a  rough  / 

fubjea     / 
Vol.  II.  ^ 


#  ♦ 


4  Beauty  of  Language.  Ci-i.  XVIII. 

fubj^ct  is  imitated  by  harfii-founding  Vvords  ;  and 
words  of  inany  fyllables  pronounced  flow  and  fmooth, 
r.re    expreffi??,e    of  grief  and   melancholyJ     Words 

/have  a  fepai^tc  elie<5l  on  the  mind,  ablTracting  from 
thdir  fignification  and  from   their  imitative  power  : 
they  are   more  or  lefs    agreeable   to   the'ear^  by  the 
''  fuhiefs,   fweetne^,   faintnefs,  or  roughiTHsof  their 
tones. 
i.Thcfc  are  but  faint  beauties,  being,  known  tothofe 
,   ,,  only  \vho,have  more  than  ordinary  acutenefs  of  per- 
.  cepti^n.   "^^Language    poflejQTeth    a  beauty    fuperior 
/  greatly  in  degree,|'of  which  we  are  eminently  fenfi- 
blelCvhen  a  thought  is  communicated  with  perfpicuity 
ancrfprightlin^s.f   This  beauty  of  language,  arifmg 
fr6m.its  power  of  expreffing    thought,  is  apt    to  be 
confounded  with   the  beauty  of  the   thought  itfelf : 
the  beauty  of  thought,  transferred  to  the  expreffion, 
makes,  it  appear  more  beautiful.*     But  thefe  beau- 
ties, if  we  wiih  to  think  accurately,  mud  be   diflin- 
1  guiihed  from  each  other.    ,  They  are  in  reality  fo  dif- 
*^tincl,  that  v/e  fometimes  are  confcious  of  the  higheil 
pleafure  language  can  aflbrd,  when  ■  the,  fubjeft  ex- 
preiied  is  difagreeablc  :  a  thing  that  is  loathfome,  or 
a  fcene  of   horror  to  make  one's  hair  fland  on  end, 
mav  be  defcribfed  in  a  manner  fo  lively,  as  that  the 
■  difagreeablenefs  of  the  fubje6l  fli&ll  not  even  bbfcure 
the  agreeablenefs  of  the  defcription.     The  caufes  of 
the  original  beauty  of  language,  confide.red  as  fig- 
nificant,  which  is  a  branch    of  the   prefent  fubjecr, 
will  be  explained  in  their  order.     I  fnall  only  at  pref- 
ent 
.1 

*  Cliap.  e.  part  i.  fc£l.  .5.  Demctiius  Plialcreus  (of  Elocution,  fefl. 
j-^  )  makes  the  fame  obfervation.  We  are  apt,  •4'ays  that  author,  to 
i  confound  the  laneuare  with  the  fuhjefl  |  and  if  the  latter  be  nervous,  we 
'.judge  the  fame  of  the- former.  But  iItcv  aie  clearly  diflintJuifhabie  j  and 
It  is  not  uncommon  to  find  fubjefls  of  great  di;;nity  dielT  d  in  mean  lan- 
guage. Thcopcnipous  IS  celebrated  for  tlie  force  of  his  dittion  ;  but  er- 
loiieoully  :  his  fuhjcCt  indeed  has  great  force,  but  bis  ftyie  very  iiitle. 


*■  .'* 


Sect.  L  l^eauVj  of  Language,      ,"'  ■  5 

ent  obferve,  that  this  beauty  is  the  beauty  of  means 
fitted  to   an  end,   that   of  communicating  thought:    : 
and    hence  it  evidently  appears,  that  of  feveral  ex- 
preffions  all  conveying  the  fai$e^  thought,  the  moll: 
beautiful,,  in  the  fenfe  now  mentioned,  is  that  whicl 
in  the  mod  perfect  manner  anf'vers  its  end. 

The  feveral  beauties  of  language  above  mentioned, 
being  of  different    kinds-,  ought  to  be   handled  fepa- 
rately.  /  i  Ihall   begin    with   thofe    beauties   of  Ian-/ 
guage  that  arife  from  found  ;  after  which  will  follow 
the   beauties  of  language  confidered  as  fignificant  ;  \^ 
this  order  appears  natural  ;  for  the  found  of  a  word 
is  attended  to,  before  we   confider    its  fignification. 
In  a  third  fection  eome  thofe  fmgular  beauties  of  Ian-  a 
guage  that  are  derived  from  a  refemblance   betweSii  ^ 
found  and  fignification.     The  beauties   of  verfe   are 
handled  in  the  lafl  fection  :  for  though  the  foregoing  / 
beauties  are  found  in  verfe  as  well  as  in  profe,  yetn^ 
verfe  has  many  peculiar  beauties,  which  for  the  fake  5f  ' 
connection  m.uft  be  brought  under  one  view  ;  and 
verfihcatlon,  at  any  rate,  is  a  fubjecl  of  fo  great  im- 
portance as  to  deferve  a  place  by  itfelf. 


SECTION    L 

Beauty  of  Language  ivith  refpeB  lo  Sound. 

r  I  ■% 

X  HIS  fubjedt  requires  the  following  or 
der.     The  founds  of  the  diiferent  letters  come  firfl  :  U 
next,  thefefounds  as  united  in  fyllables ;  third, fyllables  IfL, 
united  In  words  :  fourth,  words  united, in  a  period  :/^ 
and  in  the  lafi  place,  periods  united  in^  difcourfe.  iJL     . 

With   refpeft  to  the   fir  It    articl^,  every   vowel  is  /^t'WtJ 
founded  with  a^.i^le  expiration,  of  air    froin   the 
wind-pipe,  througy'^the  cavity  of  the  mouth.     By 
varying  this  cavity,  the  dilierent  vowels  are  foundeu  ; 
for  the  air  in  palling  through  caviucs  differing  in  lize, 

.  ^t.^",:-     A  2'  •  '''  produceth 


6  Beauty  of  Language,        Ch.  XVIIL 

produceth  various  founds,  fome  high  or  fharp,  fome 
low  or  fiat :  a  fmall  cavity  occafions  a  high  found,  a 
large  cavity  a  low  found.  The  five  vowels  accord- 
ingly, pronounced  with  the  fame  extenfion  of  the 
wind-pipe,  but  with  different  openings  of  the  mouth, 
form  a  regular  feries  of  founds,  defcending  from 
high  to  low,  in  the  following  order,  /,  e,  a^  o,  u* 
Each  of  thefe  founds  is  agreeable  to  the  ear  :  and  if 
It  be  required  which  of  them  is  the  mod  agreeable, 
it  is  perhaps  fafefl  to  hold,  that  thofe  vov/els  which 
•are  the  fartheft  removed  from  the  extremes,  will  be 
the  mod  relifhed.  This  is  all  I  have  to  remark  upon 
the  firfl  article  :  for  confonants  being  letters  that  of 
themfelves  have  no  found,  ferve  only  in  conjunction 
with  vowels  to  form  articulate  foui^ds  ;  and  as  every 
articulate  found  makes'  a  fyllable,  confonants  come 
naturally  under  the  fecond  article  j  to  which  we  pro- 
Vceed. 

/a  confonant  Is  pronounced  v/ith  a  lefs  cavity  than 
ar^y    vowe!!;  and   confequently    every   fyllable  into 
•which  a  confonant  enters,  mull  have  more  than  one 
found,  though  pronounced   with  one  expiration  of 
air,  or  with  one  breath  as  commonly  expreffed :  for 
however  readily  two  founds   may  unite,  yet  where 
thcv  differ  in    tone,  both  of  them  mufl  be  heard  if 
neither  of  them  be  fuppreifed.     For  the  fame  reafon, 
every  fyllable  mufl  be  compofed  of  as  "many  founds 
as  there  are  lecters,  fuppofmg  every  letter  to  be  dif- 
j  ,     tinclly  pronounced. 
(ju^Jf       |We  next   inquire,  how  far  fyllables  are  agreeable 
to  the  ear.l    Few  tongues  are  fo  poliflied,  as  entirely 
ito  have  rejected  founds  that  are  pronounced  with  dif- 
ficulty \ 

*  In  this  fcalc  of  founds,  the  letter  /mufl  be  pronounced  as  in  the 
vord  interrjl,  and  as  in  other  woids  beginiiin<^  with  the  fyllable  in  ;  the 
letter.;,  as  in  perfuajion ;  the  letter  c  as  la /a/ ;  and.  the   letters  as  in 


Sect.  L  Beauty  of  Langmge*  j;,  .    * 

ficulty  ;  and  it  is  a  noted  obfervation,  That  fuch^ 
founds  are  to  the  ear  harih   and  difagreeable.     But* 
^^th  refpe£l  to  agreeable  founds,  it  appears,  that  a     ■ 
double  found  is  always  more  agreeable  than  a  fuigle 
founS^:  every  one  who  has  an  ear  muft  be  fenfible,    " 
thaFme  dipththong  oi  or  ai  is  more  agreeable  than  \ 
any  of  thefe  vowels  pronounced    fmgly  :  ftlie  fame  • 
holds  where  a  confonant  enters  into  the  double  fouiid^ 
the  fyllabte  k  has  a  more  agreeable  found  than  tHe '; 
vowel  €,  or  than  any  vowel.     And  in  fupport  of  ex-  ' 
perience,   a  fatisfaftory    argument    may  be  drawn 
from  the  wifdom  of  Providence  :  fpeech  is  beflowed 
on  man,  to   qualify  him  for   fociety  ;  and  his  pro* 
Vifion  of  articulate  founds  Is  proportioned  to  the  ufe 
he  hath  for  them  ;  but  if  founds  that  are  agreeable 
fmgly,  were  not  alfo  agreeable  in  .conjunftion,  the 
neceility  of  a  painful  fele6lion  would  render  language 
intricate  and  difficult  to  be  attained  in  any  perfec- 
tion ;  and  this  felection,  at  the  fame   time,  would 
abridge  the  number  of  ufeful  founds,  fo  as  perhaps 
not  to  leave  fufficient  for  anfwering  the  different  ends 
of  language. 

In  this  view,/tne  harmony^jaf  pronunciation  dify  / 
fers  widely  froniThat  of  muficiproperly  fo  called. /Tn 
the  latter  are  difcovered  many  founds  fmgly  agreea- 
ble, which  in  conjunction  are  extremely  difagreea- 
bleTlnpne  but  what  are  called  concordant  founds  hav- 
ing  agood  effect  in  conjunction.  /TrTthe  former,  all 
founds,  fmgly  agreeable,  are  in  conjunction  concord-  . 
anfy  and  ought  to  be,  in  order  to  fulfil  the  pur- 
poles  of  language.  O- 

Having  difcuffed  fyllables,  we  proceed  to  words  ;    j^^ 
which  make  the  third  article.     Monofyilables  belong 
to  the  former  head  :  polyfyllables   open  a  different 
icene.     In  a  curfory  view,  one  would  imagine,  t'hafr 

the 


4 


^         AAf*    Beautpfif  Language,-         Ch.  XVIlI, 

, .   i  the  ag^-eeablenefs  or  difagreeablenefs  of  a  word  with 

^  i  rerpeft  to  its  found,  fhould  depend  upon  the  agreea- 

.'blenefs  or  difagreeablenefs  of  its  component  fyllables-i 

which  is  true  in  part,  but  not  entirely  ;  for  we  mufl 

alfo  take  under  conlideration,  the  eftefl:  of  fyjlables 

i    in  fucceffion.    Iln  the  firfl:  place,  fyllables  in  irifmedi- 

'i  ate   fucc-effion,  pronounced,  each  of  them,  with  the 

/A.ikme,  or 'nearly   the  fame   aperture  of  the   mouth, 
produce  a  fucceffion  of  weak   and   feeble  founds); 
witnefs  the  French   words  dit-il^  pathetlque  :  on  the 
other   hand,  a  fyllable  of  the  greateft  aperture  fuc- 
ceeding  one  of  the  fmalleft,  or  the  contrary,  makes 
a  fucceffion,  which,  becaufe  of  its  remarkable    difar 
greeablenefs,  is  diflinguifhed  by  a  proper  name,  hia-^ 
t-us.    p?he    mod  agreeable    fucceffion  is,    where  the 
/cavity  is  increafed  and  diminiffied  alternately  within 
/moderate  limits.)    Examples,    alternative^  longevity^ 
fUjillanifnom. )   Secondly,  words  confilting  wholly  of 
/fyllables     pronounced  ilow,    or    of    fyllables    pro- 
ynounced    quick,    commonly    called    long    and  Jhort 
\ fyllables,  have   little  melody  in  them  ;    witnefs  thq 
wQrds  petJtio?ier,  fruiterer,  dizzinefs  :  on  the  other 
>handi  /me  intermixture    of  long -and   fhort    fylla- 
^,  /bles  is  remarkably  agreeabl^;  for  example,  degree^ 
"^    repent,  wonderful,  altimde,  rapidity.  Independent,  im- 
petuofity*     The  caufe  will  be  explained  afterward,  ii> 
treating  of  verfilication. 

/    Diftinguifliable  from  the  beauties  above  merftion- 
fed,  there  is  a,  bea-i^ty  of  fome   words    which   arifes.  "'^'^' 
from  their  figniticalion,  when  the  emotion  raifed-by 
the  length  or  fhormefs,  the  roughnefs  or  fmoothilefs, 
of  the  found,  refembles  in  any  degree  whaf  is  raifed 

by 

*  Iialian  words,  like  tliofc-.  of  Latin  and  Greek,  have  this  prope.  ty 
jslmoft  uuiverfally  :  Enj;lifh  aad  French  words  are  generally  deficirn:. 
In  the  former,  the  Ion;;;  Ivllahlp  is  removed    from  the  end,  as  far  as  the  "••i" 

/o.ind  will  permit  ;  :inJ  in  ths'laiicr,  ihe  lad  fyllable  is.  generally  lon;^,**  ^  ^ 
For  cxamplf,  Scnaioi  in  Encliih,  Senator  in  Latin,  and  ScnatC'ir  ia  *^ 
Prcnfh.  .•^\  ■:'  ^^j 


j5ect.  I.  Beatify  of  Language.  ^ 

by  the   fenfe,  we   feel  a  very  remarkable   pleafure/  j 
But  this  fubjeft  belongs  to  the  third  feftion.  ^ 

The  foregoing  oblervations  aiford  a  ftandard  to  1 5 
every  nation,  for  eflimating,  pretty  accurately,  the 
comparative  merit  of  the  words  that  enter  into  their 
own  language  :  but  they  are  not  equally  ufeful  in 
comparing  the  words  of  different  languages  ;  V/hich 
will  thus  appear.  Different  nations  judge  differently 
of  the  harftmefs  qr  fmpothnefs  of  articulate  founds  ;, 
a  found,  for  example,  harfh  and  difagreeable  to  ail 
Itahan,  may  be  abundantly  fmooth  to  a  northern 
ear  :  here  every  nation  muff  judge  for  itfelf ;  nor 
can  there  be  any  folid  ground  for  a  preference,  when, 
there  is  no  common  ftandard  to  which  we  can  ap- 
peal. The  cafe  is  precifely  the  fame  as  in  behaviour 
and  manners  :  plaiii-dealing  and  fmcerity,  liberty  ia 
words  and  actions,  form  the  charafter  of  one  peo- 
ple ;  politenefs,  referve,  and  a  total  difguife  of  eve- 
ry fentiment  th^t  can  give  offence,  form  the  charac-* 
ter  of  another  people  ;  to  each  the  manners  of  the 
other  are  difagreeable.  An  effeminate  mind  cannot 
bear  the  lead  of  that  roughnefs  and  feverity  which  is 
generally  efleemed  manly,  when  exerted  upon  proper 
occafions  :  neither  can  an  effeminate  ear  bear  the 
harlhnefs  of  certain  words,  that  are  deemed  nerv- 
ous and  founding  by  thofe  accuftoraed  to  a  rougher 
tone  of  fpeech.  Muff  we  then  relinquifh  ail  thoughts 
of  comparing  languages  in  point  of  roughnefs  and 
fmoothnefs,  as  a  fruitlefs  inquiry  ?  Not  altogether  ; 
for  we  may  proceed  a  certain  length,  though  vvith- 
out  hope  of  an  ultimate  decifion.  A  language  pro- 
nounced with  diiilcuky  even  by  natives,  muff  yield  to 
a  fjnepther  language  :  and  fupppofmg  two  languages 
pronounced  with  equal  facility  by  natives,  the 
rougher  isinguage,  in  my  judgment,  ought  to   be 

preferred. 


•-h 


i  h 


■Vv 


Ifo  Beatify  of  Language,        Ch.  XVIIL 

'preferred,  provided  it  he  alfo  ftored  with  a  compe- 
tent fliare  of  more  mellow  founds ;  which  will  be  evi- 
dent from  attending  to  the  different  effects  that  ar-  i 
'  ticulate  found  hath  on  the  mind.  A  fmooth  gliding 
found  is  agreeable,  by  calming  the  mind,  and  lulling 
It  to  reft :  a  rough  bold  found,  on  the  contrary,  ani- 
mates the  mind  :  the  effort  perceived  in  pronouncing, 
is  communicated  to  the  hearers,  who  feel  in  their 
own  minds  a  fimilar  effort,  roufmg  their  attention, 
and  difpofmg  them  to  a£tion.  1  add  another  confid- 
teration  :  the  agreeablenefs  of  contrafl  in  the  rougher 
language,  for  which  the  great  variety  of  founds  .gives 
ample  opportunity,  muft,  even  in  an  effeminate  ear, 
prevail  over  the  more  uniform  founds  of  the  fmoother 
language.*  This  appears  all  that  can  be  fafely 
determined  upon  the  prefent  point.  With  refpeft  to 
the  other  circumllances  that  conftitute  the  beauty  of 
words,  the  ftandard  above  mentioned  is  infallible 
when  applied  to  foreign  languages  as  well  as  to  our 
own  :  for  every  man,  whatever  be  his  mother-tongue, 
is  equally  capable  to  judge  of  the  length  or  fliortnefs 
of  words,  of  the  alternate  opening  and  clofmg  of  the 
mouth  in  fpeaking,  and  of  the  relation  that  the 
found  bears  to  the  fenfe  :  in  thefe  particulars,  the 
judgment  is  fufceptible  of  no  prejudice  from  cuftom, 
at  leaft  of  no  invincible  prejudice. 

That  the  Engliih  tongue,  originally  harfli,  is  at 
prefent  much  foftened  by  dropping  in  the  pronuncia- 
tion many  redundant  confonants,  is  undoubtedly 
true  :  that  it  is  not  capable  of  being  further  mellow- 
ed without  fuffering  in  its  force  and  energy,  will 
fcarce  be  thought  by  any  one  who  poffelfes  an  ear  ; 
and  yet  fach  in  Britain  is  the  propenfity  for  difpatch^ 

that 

*  That  the  Italian  tongue  is  too  fmooth,  fcems  probable,  from  con* 
^derin=r,  that  in  vnrlificatlon,  vowels  are  frerjucntly  fupprcU'ed,  in  orde* 
to  produce  a  roug,jier  ijM.ijI^older  tone*  ,56^ 


Sect.  I.  Beauty  of  Language,  i  j 

that,  overlooking  the  majefly  of  words  compofed  of 
many  fyllables  aptly  connefted,  the  prevailing  tafle 
is  to  fhorten  words,  even  at  the  expenfe  of  making 
them  difagreeable  to  the  ear,  and  hailh  in  the  pro- 
nunciation. But  I  have  no  occafion  to  infill  upon 
this  article,  being  prevented  by  an  excellent  writer, 
who  polTefTed,  if  any  man  ever  did,  the  true  genius 
of  the  Englilh  tongue.*  I  cannot  however  forbear  urg- 
ing one  obfervation, borrowed  from  that  author:  fever- 
al  tenfes  of  our  verbs  are  formed  by  adding  the  final 
fyjlable  ed,  which,  being  a  weak  found,  has  remarka- 
bly the  worfe  efiPed  by  poflefTmg  the  mofl  confpicuous 
place  in  the  word  :  upon  which  account,  the  vowel  in  * 
common  fpeech  is  generally  fuppreffed,  and  the  con- 
fonant  added  to  the  foregoing  fyllable  ;  whence  the 
following  rugged  founds,  drud^d^  dijiurb'd,  rehuk^d^ 
fledg'd.  It  is  ftill  lefs  excufable  to  follow  this  pradice 
in  writing  ;  for  the  hurry  of  fpeaking  may  excufe  what 
would  be  altogether  improper  in  compofition  :  the 
fyllable  ed,  it  is  true,  founds  poorly  at  the  end  of  a 
word  ;  but  rather  that  defeft,  than  multiply  the 
number  of  harlh  words,  which,  after  all,  bear  an 
over-proportion  in  our  tongue.  The  author  above 
mentioned,  by  fhov/ing  a  good  example,  did  all  in 
his  power  to  reftore  that  fyllable  :  and  he  well  de- 
ferves  to  be  imitated.  Some  exceptions  however  I 
"would  make.  /"A  word  that  fignifies  labour  or  any\ 
thing  harlh  or  rugged,  ought  not  to  be  fmooth  ;  I 
therefore  forced,  with  an  apoftrophe,  is  better  than  \ 
forced,  without  it.  /Another  exception  is  where  the 
penult  fyllable  ena"rwith  a  vowel  ;  in  that  cafe  the 
final  fyllable  ed  may  be  apoftrophizeHTwithout  mak- 

inc: 

o 

*  Sec  Swift'5  propofiil  for  correBlng  the  Englifli   tongue,  in  a  letisj 
to  the  Earl  of  Oxford. 


I J  Beauty  of  Language,  Ch.  XVIIL 

ing   the   word  harfli :  examples,  betrafdy   carrfd, 
deftroyd^  cmplofd.  ^ 

The  article  next  In   ordei^  is.  the  mufic  of  words 
as  united  in   a  period.     Ana  as  the  arrangement  of 
words  in  fucceiTion  fo  as  to  afford  the  greateft  pleaf- 
ure  to  the  ear,  depends  on  principles  remote  from 
^yr^^ycommon  view,  it  will  be  neceffary  to  premife  fome 
*^  ^^^.^^eneral  obfervations  upon  the  appearance  that  obje6ls 
'^^  rV ,  mdce,  when  placed  in   an    increafmg    or  decreafmg 
-y  W      Jenes.     "Where  the  objects  vary  by  fmall  differences, 
4^^^y  fo  as  to  have  a  m.utual  refemblance,  we  in  afcending 
<^^*V  ^/Jfcbnceive  the  fecond  object  of  no  greater  fize  than  the 
/  '  iI^^->  ^'^^  third  of  no  greater  fize  than  the  fecond,  and 
^!^^/'J^  of  the  reft  ;  which    diniiniflieth  in  appearance  the 
~^^ I      hze  of  every  objeft  except  the  firft  :  but  when,  be- 
^2     ginning  at  the  greateft  objeft,  we  proceed  gradually 
/  Ij^pjp  the  leaft,  refemblance  makes  us  imagine  the  fecond 
Y  4r<lt-^^  great  as  the  firft,  and  the  third  as  great  as  the  fec- 
\/h4-f~  end  j  which  in  appearance  magnifies  every  object  ex- 
cept the  firft.     On  the  other  hand,  in  a  feries  vary- 
ing by  large  differences,  where  contraft  prevails,  the 
effects  are  diredly  oppofite  ;  a  great  object  fucceed- 
mg  a  fmall  one  of  the    fame    kind,  appears  greater 
than  ufual  ;  and  a  little  objeft  fucceeding  one  that  is 
great,  appears   lefs  than  ufual.*     Hence  a  remarka- 
ble pleafure  in   viewing  a  feries   afcending   by  large 
differences ;  direftly  oppofjte  to  what  we  feel  when 
the  differences  are  fmall.     The  leaft  objed  of  a  feries 
afcending  by  large  differences  has  the  fame  cfFecl  up- 
on the  mind,  as  if  it  ftood  fmgl?  without  making  a 
part  of  the  feiies  :  but  the  fecond  objed,  by  means 
of  contraft,  apoears  greater  than  when  viewed  fmgly 
and  apart ;  ano'the  fame  elTcd  is  perceived  in  afcend- 
ing pr ogrefTively,  till  we  arrive  at  the  lait  object.    The 

oppofito 

*  See  the  rcafon,  chap.  8. 


f 


♦■»f' 


Bect.  L  Beauty  of  Language*  ij 

ttppofite^Fed;  is  produced  in  defcending  ;  for  in  this 
direclioi^every  object,  except  the  firft,  appears  lefs 
than  when  viewed  fepaiately  and  independent  of  the 
feries.  We  may  then  altume  as  a  maxim,  which 
will  hold  in  the  compofition  of  language  as  well  as 
of  other  fubjeds.  That  a  ftrong  impulfe  fucceeding  a 
weak,  makes  a  double  impreffion  on  the  mind  :  -and 
that  a  weak  impulfe  fucceeding  a  ftrong,  makes  fcarcs 
any  Impreffion. 

After  eflablifhing  this  maxim,  we  can  be  at  na 
lofs  about  its  application  to  the  fubjecl  in  hand.  The 
following  rule  is  laid  down  by  Diomedes.*  "  In  ver- 
bis obfCTvandum  eft,  ne  a  majoribus  ad  minora  de- 
fcendat  oratio  ;  melius  eiiim  dicitur,  Vir  eji  optimus^ 
quam,  Vir  optimiis  eJiJ* 

This  rule  is  alfo  applicable  to  entire  members  of  a 
period,  which,  according  to  our  author's  expreflion, 
ought  not,  more  than  fmgle  words,  to  proceed  from 
the  greater  to  the  lefs.  but  from  the  lefs  to  the  great- 
er^t  In  arranging  ^e  members  of  a  period,  no 
writer  equals  Cicero  :  the  beauty  of  the  following  ex- 
amples out  of  many,  will  not  fuffer  me  to  flur  them 
over  by  a  reference. 

Qi_iicum  quseftor  fueram,  vw" 

Qijicum  me  fors  confuetudoque  majorum, 

Quicum  me  deorum  hominumque  judicium  conjimxerata 

Again : 

Habet  honorem  quern  petimus, 
Hnbet  fpem  quam  praepolitam  nobis  Iiabemus, 
Habet   exiftimatioiicm,     multp    fudore,  laborc,  viglliif-* 
que,  colle(5tai=n. 


Again  : 


*  De  flruftura  perfefla-  oratioiiis,  I.  s, 
1-  See  Demctiias  riialereus  of  Elocution,  k<\.  iS. 


Ki  ' 


J4  Beauty  of  Language.        Gh.  XVUI, 

Again  2 

Eriplte  nos  ex  mlferils, 
Eripite  nos  ex  faucibiis  eorum, 
Quorum  crudeiitas  noftro  fanguine  non  poteft  expleri. 

De  oratore,  1.  i.  §  52. 

This  order  of  words  or  members  gradually  increaf-* 
ing  in  length  may,  as  far  as  concerns  the  pleafure  of 
found,  be  denominated  a  cimidx  in  found. 

The  laft  article  is  the  mufic  of  periods  as  united  in 
a  difcourfe  ;  which  fhall  be  difpatched  in  a  very  few 
words.     By  no  other  human   means  is  it  pQflible  ta 
prefent  to  the  mind,  fuch  a  number  of  objects,  and 
t'^info   fwift  a  fucceifion,  as  by  fpeaking  or   writing: 
f,^nLl^^^2ir\^.  for  that  reafon,  variety  ought   more  to  be  fludi- 
ll  /ed  in  thefe,  than  in  any  other  fort  of  compofition. 
jf^-A-TW-jlence  a  rule  for  arranging  the  members  of  different 
i  periods  with  relation  to  each  other, ^^at  to  avoid  a 

tedious  uniformity  of  found  and  caHence,  the  ar- 
rangement, the  cadence,  and  the  length  of  the  mem* 
bers,  ought  to  be  diverfified  as  much  as  pofTible  ; 
and  if  the  members  of  different  periods  be  fufficiently 
diverfified,  the  periods  themfelves  will  be  equally  I^tJ^ 

•  -■#. 

SECT.      II. 

Beauty  of  Language  with  refpeEl  to  Signification* 


Ji 


.T  is  well  faid  by  a  noted  writer,*  "  That 
by  means  of  fpeech  we  can  divert  our  forrows,  min- 
gle our  mirth,  impart  our  fecrets,  communicate  our 
counfel-s,  and  make  mutual  compacts  and  agreements 
to  fupply  and  ^lil  each  other.'*  Confidering  fpeech 
;  2k% 


•  Scot's  Chrlflian  lifT» 


■J* 


Sect.  II.  Beauty  of  Language^  t^ 

as  contributing  to  fo  many  good  purpofes,  word* 
that  convey  clear  and  diftinft  ideas,  muft  be  one  of 
its  capital  beauties.  This  caufe  of  beauty,  is  too  ex*, 
tenfive  to  be  handled  as  a  branch  of  any  other  fub*. 
je<5l  :  for  to  afcertain  v/ith  accuracy  even  the  propyer 
meaning  of  words,  not  to  talk  of  their  figurative 
power,  would  require  a  large  volume  ;  an  ufeful 
work  indeed,  but  not  to  be  attempted  without  a 
large  flock  of  time,  lludy,  and  refleftion.  This 
branch  therefore  of  the  fubje6l  I  humbly  decline* 
Nor  do  I  propofe  to  exhaufl  ail  the  other  beauties  of' 
language  that  relate  to  fignification  :  the  reader,  in  a 
work  like  the  prefent,  cannot  fairly  expecl  more  than 
a  flight  fketch  of  thofe  that  make  the  greatefl  figure. 
This  tafk  is  the  more  to  my  tafle,  as  being  conne6i:ed 
with  certain  natural  principles ;  and  the  rules  I  fhall 
have  occafion  to  lay  down,  will,  if  I  judge  rightly, 
be  agreeable  illuflrations  of  thefe  prijiciples.!  Every 
fubjed  mufl  be  of  importance  that  tends  to  unfold 
the  human  heart ;  for  what  other  fcience  is  of  greater 
life  to  human  beings  ?  ^  ^  ^^^  ^ 

/The  prefent  fubjecl  is  too  extenfive  to  be  difcufTedj 
Without   dividing   it   into  p^rt^;  and   what  follows/        / 
fuggefts  a  divifion  into  two  parts.     In  every  period,- /^^^ 
two   things  are  to  be  regarded  :  firfl,  the  words  of        , 
which  it  is  compofed  -,  next,    the  arrangement  of  ^^ 
thefe  words  ;  the  former  refembling  the  flones  that 
compofe  a  building,  and    the   latter   refembling  the 
order  in  which  they  are  placed.     Hence  the  beauties 
of  language  with  refpeft    to  fignification,  may   not 
improperly  be   diflinguiflied   into  two  kinds  :  firft, 
the  beauties  that  arife  from  a  right  choice  of  words 
or  materials  for  conftruding  the  period  ;  and  next, 
the  beauties   that  arife    from  a  due  arrangement  of 
thefe  words  or  materials.     I  begin  with  rules  that  di- 
red  us  to  a  right  choice  of  words,  and  then  proceed 
to  rules  that  concern  their  arrangement. 

And 


'.li  Beauty  of  Language  Ch.  XVIlt, 

And  with   refpeft  to  the  former,  communication 
i    jJ      UoS.  thought  being  the  chief  end  of  language,  it  is  a 
^"^^    J, rule,  Thal^^rfpicuity  ought  not  to  be  facrificed  to 
/  any  other  beauty  whatever  :  if  it  fhould  be  doubted 
'  whether  perfpicuity  be  a  pofitive  beauty,  it  cannot  be 
doubted   that  the  want  of  it  is  the  greateft  defeat. 
Nothing   therefore  in   language   ought  more  to  be 
ftudied,  than  to  prevent  all  obfcurity  in  the  expref- 
fion  ;  for  to    have  no    meaning,  is  but   one   degree 
worfe,  than  to  have  a  meaning  that  is  not  underflood. 
Want  of  perfpicuity  from  a  wrong  arrangement,  be- 
longs to  the   next  branch.     I  fliall  here  give  a  few 
examples  where  the    obfcurity  arifes    from  a  wrong 
choice  of  words  ;  and  as  this"  defect  is  too  common 
in  the  ordinary   herd  of  writers  to  make    examples 
from  them  neceifary,  I^confine  myfelf  to  the  moft  cel- 
ebrated authors. 

Livy,  fpeaking  of  a  rout  after  a  battle. 

Multique  in  ruina  majore  quam  fuga   opprefli  obtrimi^ 
.catique. 
i  L'  4-  §  46- 

This  author  is  frequently  obfcure,  by  expreffing 
but  part  of  his  thought,  leaving  it  to  be  completed 
by  his  reader.  His  defcription  of  the  fea-fight,  /.  28* 
caj).  30.  is  extremely  perplexed. 

Unde  tibi  redituin  certo  fubtemlne  Parcas 
Ruperc. 

Horaccy  epod.  xiii.  22. 

Qui  perfaiipe  cava  tefludine  flevit  amorenij 
jSon  elaborutum  ad  pedem. 

Horace ^  epod.  xiv,  11. 

Mefabulofx  Vulture  in  Appulo^ 
Altricis  extra  iimen  Apulia;, 

'    Ludo, 


SicT.  ir.  Beauty  of  Language.  ij 

Ludo,  fatigatumqiie/5;n«<7, 
Fronde  nova  puerum  palumbes 
Texere. 

Horacty  Carm.  L  3.  ode  4, 

Purae  rlviis  aquse,  filvaque  jugerum 
Paucorum,  et  fegetis  certa  fides  mese, 
Fulgentum  imperio  fertilis  Africas 
Fallit  forte  heatior. 

Horace y  Carm.  I.  3.  ode  16. 

Cum  fas  atque  nefas  exIguo/«?  libidinum 
Difcernunt  avidi. 

Horace f  Carm.  L  r.  ode  18. 

Ac  fpem  fj-onte  ferenat. 

Mneld.  iv.  477. 

t  am  in  gf  eater  pain  about  the  foregoing  paffages, 
than  about  any  I  have  ventured  to  criticife,  being 
aware  that  a  vague  or  obfcure  expreffion,  is  apt  to 
gain  favour  with  thofe  who  negleft  to  examine  it 
with  a  critical  eye.  To  fome  it  carries  the  fenfe  that 
they  reUfli  the  moft:  ;  and  by  fuggefting  various 
meanings  at  once,  it  is  admired  by  others  as  con- 
cife  and  comprehenfive  :  which  by  the  way  fairly  aci_, 
counts  for  the  opinion  generally  entertained  with  re- 
fpe6t  to  moft  languages  in  their  infant  ftate,  of  ex» 
prefling  much  in  few  words.  This  obfervation  may 
be  illuftrated  by  a  paflage  from  Quintilian,  quoted  in. 
the  firft  volume  for  a  diflferent  purpofe. 

At  quse  Polycleto  defuerunt,  Phidias  atque  Alcameni 
danttir.  Phidias  tamen  diis  quam  hominibus  efficiendis 
melior  artifex  traditur  :  in  ebore  vero,  longe  citra  ^mu- 
lum,  vel  fi  nihil  nifi  Minervam  Athenis,  aut  Olyinpium 
in  Elide  Jovem  feciflet,  cnjus  pulchritudo  adjecijje  aliquid 
etiam  recepicz  reJigioni  videiur  /  ade9  majejias  operis  Deum 
iCqiiavit. 

Vol.  n.  B  The 


i  9  Beauty  of  Language.         Ch.  XVIIL 

The  fentence  in  the  Italic  charafters  appeared  to  me 
abundantly  perfpicuous,  before  I  gave  it  peculiar  at- 
tention. And  yet  to  examine  it  independent  of  the 
context,  its  proper  meaning  is  not  what  is  intended  : 
the  words  naturally  ipiport,  that  the  beauty  of  the 
ftatues  mentioned,  appears  to  add  fome  new  tenet 
or  rite  to  the  eftabliflied  rehgion,  or  appears  to  add 
new  dignity  to  it ;  and  we  mufl  confult  the  context 
before  we  can  gather  the  true  meaning  ;  which  is, 
that  the  Greeks  were  confirmed  in  the  behef  of  their 
eftablifned  religion  by  thefe  majeflic  llatues,  fo  like 
real  divinities. 
/_ .   /  There  may  be  a  defedt  in  perfpiculty   proceeding 

^u^u^iL-  even    from  the   flightefl  ambiguity  in  conftru6lion  ; 
(^u^      I  as  where  the  period  commences  with  a  member  con- 
'^\  fJ    ceived  to  be  in  the  nominative  cafe,  w  hich  afterward 
f*T  *    'Jjf^^  found  to  be  in  the  accufative.     Example  :  "  Some 
^f^*    7  emotions  more   peculiarly   connefted   with  the  fine 
arts,  I   propofe   to  handle    in  feparate    chapters.*" 
Better  thus :  "  Some  emotions  more  peculiarly  con- 
ne£led  with   the  fine  arts,  are  propofed  to  be  hand- 
led in  feparate  chapters.'* 

I  add  another  error  againfl:  perfpicnity  ;  whicli  I 
mention  the  rather  becaufe  with  fome  writers  it  pafies 
^\  JL  foi"  a  beauty.  j\x.  is  the  giving  different  names  to  the 
^;;./jw^uC-f;^nig  objed,  mentioned  oftener  than  once  in  the  fame 
period.!  Example  :  fpeaking  of  the  Englifh  adven- 
turers who  firft  attempted  the  conqueft  of  Ireland, 
*'  and  inllead  of  reclaiming  the  natives  from  their 
uncultivated  manners,  they  were  gradually  aflimilat- 
ed  to  the  ancient  inhabitants,  and  degenerated  from 
the  culloms  of  their  own  nation."  From  this  mode 
of  exprefTion,  one  would  think  the  author  meant 
to  diftinguilh  the  ancient  mbabitanfs  from  the  natives  : 
and  we  cannot  difcover  otherwife  than  from  the  fenfe 
that  thefe   are  only   diflerent  names   given  to  the 

fame 

*  Elements  of  Crlticifni,  vol.  J.  p.  43.  edit.  1. 


Sect.il  Beauty  of  L  anguage,  1 9 

lame  obje£l  for  the  fake  of  variety.  But  perfpicuity 
ought  never  to  be  facrificed  to  any  other  beautv, 
which  leads  me  to  think-  that  the  paflage  may  be  im- 
proved as  follows  :  "  and  degenerating  from  the 
cuftoms  of  their  own  nation,  they  were  gradually  af- 
fimilated  to  the  natives,  inftead  of  reclaiming  thenn 
from  their  uncultivated  manners.** 

The  next   rule  in  order,  becaufe  next  in  import- 
^^^nnce,  is,  That^/^e  language  ought  to  correfpond  to/ 
,   y  ^the  fubjecl/:  heroic  alliens  or  fentiments  require  el/ 
'4i/(i,  evated  language  ;  tender  fentiments  ought  to  be  ex- 
preifed  in  words  foft   and   flowing  ;  and    plain   lan- 
guage void  of  ornament,  is  adapted  to  fubje6ls  grave  -.-^ 
and   didaftic.     Language   may  be  confidered  as  th^'^^ 
drefs  of  thought ;  and  where   the    onq  is  not  fuite(^'~-\Z^ 
to  the  other,  we  are  fenfible  of  incongruity,  in  th^^-  ^ 
fame  manner  as  where  a  judge  is  drelTed  Hke  a  fogj^ 
or  a  peafant  like  a  man  of  quality.     Where  the  im  -  *^ 
prefTion  m.ade  by  the  words  refembles  the  impreflio^ 
made  by   the  thought,    the  fimilar   emotions   mixs 
fweetly  in  the  mind  and  double  the  pleafure  ;*  but 
where  the  impreffions  made  by  the  thought  and  the 
words  are   dilhmiiar,  the  unnatural   union   they  are 
forced  into  is  difagreeable.f 

This  concordance  between  the  thought  and  the 
words  has  been  obferved  by  every  critic,  and  is  fo 
veil  underilood  as  not  to  require  any  illullration. 
But  there  is  a  concordance  of  a  peculiar  kind,  that 
has  fcarcely  been  touched  in  works  of  criticiim, 
though  it  contributes  to  neatnefs^of  compofition.  It 
is  what  follows.  /lii  a  thought  of  any  extent,  we 
commonly  find  fome  parts  intimately  united,  fome 
flightly,  fome  disjoined,  and  fom.e  direftly  oppofed 
to  each  other.     To  find  thefe  conjundions  and  dif- 

junftions 

*  Chap.  9.  part  4,  t  Ibid. 

B2 


^^  Beauiy  of  Language,        Ch,  XVIIl, 

iundions  iiiMtlated  in  the  expreffion,  is  a  beautyA 

becaufc  inch,  imitation  makes  the  words  concordant 

with  the  fenfe.     This  doctrine  may  be  illuftrated  by 

a  familiar   example.     When   we  have  occafion  to 

mention  the  intimate  connection   that  the  foul  hath 

with  the  body,   the  expreffion  ought  to  be,  the  foul 

and  body  ;  becaufe  the  particle  the,  relative  to  both, 

makes  a  connexion  in  the  expreffion,  refembhng  in 

fome   degree   the  connexion  in  the  thought  :  but 

when  the  foul  is  diftinguifhed  from  the  body,  it  is 

better  to  fay  the  foid  and  the  body  ;  becaufe  the  dif- 

jundion  in  the  words  refembles  the  disjuntlion  in  the 

thought.     I  proceed  to  other  examples,  beginning 

with  conjunctions. 

Conftituit   agmen  \  et  cxpedire  tela  artimofque,  equiti- 
bus  jullis,  ^c, 

Livyy  L  38.    §  25. 

'Here  the  words  that  exprefs  the  connected  ideas  arc 
.artificially  connected  by  fubjecting  them  both  to  the 
'^regimen  of  one  verb.     And  the  two  following  are  of 
the  fame  kind. 

f  );ium  ex  paucis  quotidic  aliqui  eorum  cade  rent  aut  vul- 
nerarentur,  et  qui  fuperarcnt,  tefli  et  corporibus  et  animis 

cUbnt,  iJc. 

Livy,  /.  38.  §  29, 

Poll:  acer  Mncllhciis  addnfto  conftitit  arcu, 
Alta  petcns,  pariterque  oculos  telumqiie  tetendit. 

jEneidy  V.  507. 

But  to  jiiftify  this  artificial  connection  among  the 
words,  the  ideas  they  exprefs  ought  to  ,be  intimately 
connected  ;  for  otherwile  that  concordance  which 
is  required  between  the  fenfe  and  tlie  expreffion  will 
be  impaired.     In  that  \  iew,  u  pafl'age  from  Tacitus 

is 


Sect.  II.  Beauty  of  Language,  21 

is  exceptionable ;  where  words   that   fignify  Ideas 
very  little  connected,  are  however  forced  into  an  ar- 
tificial union.     Here  is  the  palTage  : 

Gsrrnania  omnis  a  G-iIIiis,  Rhjetiifque,  et  PannoniiSj  Rhe- 
no  et  Danubio  fluminibus  ;  a  Sarniatis  Dacifque,  nuituo 
metu  aut  montibus  feparatur. 

De  morihus  Germamruf}!. 

Upon  the  fame  account,  !  efi;eem  the  following  paf. 
iage  equally  exceptionable. 

-The  fiend  look'd  up  and  knew 


His  mounted  foale  aloft  ;   ni>r  moje,  but  tied 
Murin'ring,  and  with  him  fled  the  ihades  of  night. 
Parad'tje  Loft,  b.  4.  at  the  end. 

There  is  no  natural  connection  between  a  perfon's 
flying  or  retiring,  and  the  fucceffion  of  day-liqht  to 
darknefs  ;  and  therefore  to  conneit  artincialiy  the 
terms  that  fignify  theie  things  cannot  have  a  fvveet 
clFea. 

/Tv/o  members  of  a  thought  connected  by  their  re-  ^^,  ^'^ 
lation  to  the  fame  action,  will  naturally  be  expreifed  ''^i^i^  ^ 
by  two  members  of  the  period  governed  by  the  fame  ^ 
verbTT  in  which  cafe  thcfe  members,  in  order  to  im- 
prove  their  connexion,  ought  to  be  conftruded  in. 
the  fame  manner.  /  This  beauty  is  fo  common  among 
good  writers,  as  to  have  been  lictle  attendevl  to  j  but 
the  neglect  of  it  is  remarkably  difagreeable  :  For 
example,  "  He  did  not  mention  Leonora,  nor  that 
her  fiUher  was  dead."  Better  thus  :  "  He  did  not 
mention  Leonora,  nor  her  father's  death."  ^^ 

Where  tv^^o  ideas  are  fo  connefted  as  to  require/   q^  ^/^ 
but  a  copulative,   it  is  pleafant  to  fmd  a  connettionj 
in  the  words  that  exprefs  thefe  ideas,  were  it  eveni 
fo  flight  as  were  both  begin  with  the  fame  letter  :     | 
B  3  The 


22  Beauty  of  Language.         Ch.  XVIII. 

The  peacock  in  all  his  ptide,  does  not  difplay  half  the 
colour  that  appears  in  the  garments  of  a  Britifh  lady,  when 
llie  is  either  drefled  for  a  ball  or  a  birth  day. 

Sfedator,  No.  265. 

Had  not  my  dog  of  a  fteward  run  away  as  he  did,  with- 
out making  up  his  accounts,  1  had  ftill  been  emerfed  in 
iin  anji  Tea -coal. 

Ibid^  No.  530. 

My  life's  companion  and  my  bofom-friend, 
One  faith,  one  fame,  one  fate  fhall  both  attend. 

Dry  den  y  Travjlat'ion  of  JEneid. 

There  is  fenfibly  a  defe<5l  In  neatnefs  when  uniform- 
ity in  this  cafe  is  totally  neglcded  ;*  witnefs  the 
folio  wing  example,  where  the  conflrudlion  of  two 
members  conne61:ed  by  a  copulative  is  unnecelTarily 
varied. 

For  it  is  confidently  reported,  that  two  young  gentlemen 
of  real  hopes,  bright  wit,  and  profound  judgment,  who 
upon  a  thorough  examination  of  caufes  and  effeds,  and  by 
the  mere  force  of  natural  abilities,  without  the  leaft  tinc- 
ture of  learning,  have  made  a  difcovery  that  there  was  no 
God,  -xwdi gfneroiijly  communicating  their  thoughts  for  the  good 
ot  the  public,  were  fomc  time  ago,  by  an  unparalleled  ftve- 
rity,  and  upon  I  know  not  what  obfolete  law,  broke  for 
blafphemy.t  [Better  thus  :] — having  made  a  difcoVery 
that  tiiere  was  no  God,  and  having  generoudy  communi- 
cated their  thoughts  for  the  good  of  the  public,  were  fome 
time  ago,  iSc. 

He  had  been  guilty  of  a  fault  for  which  his  matter 
would  have  put  him  to  death,  had  he  not  tound  an  oppor- 
tunity to  efcape  out  of  his  hands,  ■^inlfltd  into  the  defarts  o( 
4Numidia.  Guardian^  No.  139. 


If 

t  An  argument  againft  abolifhing  ChriUlanity,      Swjh 


,   •  See  Girard's  French  Grammar,  dlfcouifc  is:. 


/ 


Sect.  II.  Beauty  of  Language ,  23 

If  all  the  ends  of  the  Revohition  are  already  obtained,  it 
is  not  only  impertinent  to  argue  for  obtaining  any  of  them, 
but  fa£lious  defigns  7Hight  be  imputed,  and  the  name  of  in- 
cendiary be  applied  wiih  foine  colour,  perhaps,  to  any  one 
who  Ihould  perliil  in  prefling  this  point. 

Di[fertation  upo?i  parties,  Dedication. 

Next  as  to  examples  of  disjunQion  and  oppofition 
in   the  parts  of  the  thought,  hnitated  in  the  expref-  | 
fion  ;  an  imitation  that  is  difiinguifhed  by  the  name  I    ■ 
of  mitithefis. 

Speaking  of  Cojriolanus  foliciting  the  people  to 
be  made  conful  : 

With  a  proud  heart  he  wore  his  humble  weeds. 

Coriolanus. 

Had  you  rather  Casfar  were  living,  and  die  all  flaves, 
than  that  C^efar  were  dead,  to  live  all  free  men  ? 

Julius  Cafar. 

He  hath  cool'd  my  friends  and  heated  mine  enemies. 

Shalejpear. 

An  artificial  connection  among  the  words,  is  un- 
doubtedly a  beauty  when   it  reprefents   any  peculiar 
^onnedion    among    the    conilituent    parts    of    the 
thought  ;  but  where  there  is  no  fuch  connexion,  it 
is  a  pofitive  deformity,  as  above  obferved,  becaufe  it     (7  ^^ 
makes  a  difcordance   between  the  thought  and  ex-     j    JjOt 
prefTion.     i'or  the  farne  reafon,  Twe  ought  alfo   to  ^^ 
»void    every   artificial    oppofitioir^f   words  where 
there  is  none  in  the  thouGf 


ppoiii 

D?*lC 


This  lafl,  termed  'ver- 
bal antithefis,  is  ftudied  t5y^ow  writers,  becaufe  of  a 
certain  degree  of  livelinefs  in  it.  They  do  not  con- 
Itder  how  incongruous  it  is,  in  a  grave  compofition, 
to  cheat  the  reader,  and  to  make  him  expect  a  con^ 
'    B4  trail 


t4  B^aufy  s/Lan^ua^e.         Ch.  XVIlt,, 

traft  in  the  thought,  which  upon  examination  is  not 
found  there. 

A  light  wife  doth  make  a  heavy  hufband. 

Merchant  of  Venice. 

Here  is  fludied  cppofition  in  the  words,  not  only 
without  any  oppofition  in  the  fenfe,  but  even  where 
there  is  a  very  intimate  connexion,  that  of  caufe  and 
effect  ;  for  it  is  the  levity  of  the  wife  that  torments 
the  hufband. 

Will  maintain 


Upon  his  bad  life  to  make  all  this  good. 

King  Richard  II.  a^  I'Jc.  3. 

Lucetfa.  What,  (hall  thefe  papers  lie  like  tell-tales  here  J 
jfuUa.  If  thou  refpetl  them,  beft  to  take  them  up. 
Lucetta.  Nay,    I  was  taken  up  for  laying  them  down. 

Two  Gentlemen  ofrerona,  a6l  \.  Jc.  3. 

A  fault  direftly  oppofite  to  that  lafl:  mentioned,  is 
to  conjoin  artificially  words  that  exprefs  ideas  oppof- 
ed  to  each  other.)  This  is  a  fault  too  grofs  to  be  in 
common  pradice  ;  and  yet  writers  are  guilty  of  it  in 
fome  degree,  when  they  conjoin  by  a  copulative, 
things  tranfafted  at  different  periods  of  time.  Hencw 
a  want  of  neatnefs  in  the  following  expreffion. 

The  nobility  too,  whom  the  King  had  no  means  of  re- 
taining by  fuitable  offices  and  preterments,  had  been  feized 
"with  the  general  difcontent,  and  unwarily  threw  themfelves 
into  the.  fcale  which  began  already  too  much  to  pre- 
ponderate. 

Hijiory  of  G.  Britain,  vol.  i.  p.  250. 

In  periods  of  this  kind,  it  appears  more  neat  to  cx« 
prefs  the  pail  time  by  the  participle  pafiive,  thus  : 

The 


Sect.  II.  Beauty  of  Language.  35 

The  nobility  having  been  feized  with  the  general  difcon- 
tent,  unwarily  threw  themfelves,  &c.  (or)  The  nobility, 
who  had  been  feized,  Sec.  unwarily  threw   themfelves,  &:c. 

It  is  unpleafant  to  find  even  a  negative  and  affirm- 
ative proportion  conneded  by  a  copulative  ; 

Nee  excitatur  clafllco  miles  truci. 
Nee  horret  iratum  mare  ; 
Forumque  vitat,  et  fuperba  civium 
Potentiorum  iimina. 

Horace y   Epod,  2. 

If  it  appear  not  plain,  and  prove  untrue, 
Deadly  divorce  ftep  between  me  and  you. 

Shaheff)ear. ' 


In  mirth  and  drollery  it  may  have  a  good  efFe^  to 
conned  verbally  things  that  are  oppofite  to  eachi 
other  in  the  thought.  Example  :  Henry  the  Fourtli\ 
of  France  introducing  the  Marefchal  Biron  to  fom^ 
of  his  friends,  "  Here,  Gentlemen,**  fays  he,  "  is  the 
Marefchal  Biron,  whom  I  freely  prefent  both  to  my 
friends  and  enemies." 

This  rule  of  fludying   uniformity    betM^een   the 
thought  and  expreffion,  may  be  extended  to  the  con-^y^^^ 
flruftion  of  fentences   or  periods.  JK  fentence  or     ^^/^ 
period  ought  to  exprefs  one  entire  thought  or  mental  ^  ^^'L^ 
propofition  ;  and  different  thoughts  ought  to  be  fepa-  /   j-j^^^ 
rated  in  the  expreffion  by  placing  them  in   different  Jj , 
fentences  or  periods.   It  is  therefore  offending  againfl  ^'^^^'^^" 
neatnefs,  to  crowd  into  one  period   entire  thoughts    '/■^^^^/' 
requiring  more  than    one  ;  which  is  joining  in  lan- 
guage things  th^t  are  feparated  in  reamyT   Of  errors 
againft  this  rule  take  the  following  examples. 

Behold,  thou  art  fair,  my  beloved,  yea  pleafant ;  alfo  our 
feed  is  green. 

Caefar, 


20  Beauty  of  Language,  Ch.  XVIII, 

Csefar,  defcribing  the  Suevi  :   ■ 

Atqiie  in  earn  fe  confuetiidinem  adduxenint,  ut  locis 
frigidillimis,  neque  vertiius,  pra;ter  pellcs,  habeant  c\\\id- 
quam,  quaium  propter  exiguitatem,  magna  ell  corporis 
pars  apcrta,  et  laveniur  in  iluminihus. 

Cofmnentariuy  1.  4.  prin. 

Burnet,  in  the  hiflory  of  his  own  times,  giving 
Lord  Sunderland's  character,  fays. 

His  own  notions  were  always  good  ;  but  he  was  a  man 
of  great  expenle. 

I  have  feen  a  woman's  face  break  out  in  heats  as  fhe  has 
been  talking  againft  a  great  lord,  whom  fhe  had  never  feeu 
in  her  Ute  ;  and  indeed  never  knew  a  party- woman  that 
kept  her  beauty  tor  a  twelvemonth. 

SpefiatoTy  No.  57. 

Lord  Bollngbroke  fpeaking  of  Strada  : 

1  fingle  him  cut  among  the  moderns,  becaufe  he  hid  the 
foolilh  prelumption  to  cenfurc  Tacitus,  and  tp  write  hillo^ 
ry  himl'elt  ;  and  your  Lordfiiip  will  forgive  this  Ihort  ex- 
curlion  in  honour  ot  a  favourite  writer. 

Letters  an  hifioryy  vol.  i.  let.  5. 

It  fcemsto  me,  that  in  order  to  maintain  the  moral  fyfteni 
of  the  world  at  a  certain  point,  far  below  that  ot  ideal  per- 
tedlioii,  (tor  we  are  made  capable  ot  conceiving  what  we 
are  incapable  of  attaining,)  but  however  futiicient  upon  the 
whole  to  conltituie  a  (tale  eafy  and  happy,  or  at  the  worifc 
tolerable  :  1  lay,  it  feems  to  me,  that  the  Author  of  nature 
■fcas  thought  ii-t  to  mingle  from  time  to  time,  among  the  io~ 
ciciics  ot  men>  a  (tw,  and  but  4  tew  of  thofeon  whom  he  is 
gracioullv  plcafcd  to  bellow  a  larger  proponion  ot  the  etlic- 
yial  fpirU  tlian  is  given  in  the  ordinary  courfe  ot  his  provi- 
tlcncc  to  the  fcjus  ot  men. 

Bolin'^bnle  en  ihefpirit  of  patriotifm,  let.  i. 

To 


C^T-*-/ 


Sect.  II.  Beauty  of  Language,  37 

/To  crowd  Into  a  fingle  member  of  a  period  differ- 
ent fubjefts,  is  flill  worfe  than  to  crowd  them  into 
one  period  :| 

Trojam,  genitore  Adamafto 

Paupere  (manfiiTctque  utinam  tortuua)  prottdus. 

Mneid.  iii.  614. 

Prom  conjuniEtions  and  disjun£lions  in  general,  we    A,^»^k»^ 
proceed  to  comparifons,  which  make  one  fpecies  of  ^ 

them,  beginning  with  fimiles.  And  here  alfo,  the 
intimate  connedtion  that  words  have  with  their  mean- 
ing requires,  thatynT  defcribing  two  refembling  ob- 
jeds,  a  refemblance  in  the  two  members  of  the  period 
ought  to  be  fludiedJ  To  illufhrate  the  rule  in  this 
cafe,  I  fhall  give  various  examples  of  deviations  from 
it ;  beginning  with  refemblances  exprelfed  in  words 
that  have  no  refemblance. 

I  have  obfcrved  of  late,  the  ftyle  of  fome  ^rreat  mhufiers 
very  much  to  exceed  that  of  any  other  pr.d-iSllons. 

Letter  to  the  Lord  High  Treajurer.    Swift. 

This,  inflead  of  ftudying  the  refemblance  of  words 
in  a  period  that  exprelTes  a  comparifon,  is  going  out 
of  one's  road  to  avoid  it.  Inflead  of  prodiiSiions, 
which  refemble  not  minift ers  great  nor  fmall,  the 
proper  word  is  writers  or  authors. 

If  men  of  enainence  are  expofed  to  cenfure  on  the  one 
hand,  they  are  as  much  liable  to  flattery  on  the  other.  If 
they  receive  reproachti;  which  are  not  due  to  them,  they 
likewife  receive  praifcs  which  they  do  not  deforve. 

Spe^ator. 

Here  the  fubjed  plainly  demands  uniformity  in  ex- 
prefiion  inflead  of  variety  5  and  therefore  it  is  fub« 

mittcd. 


iS  Beauty  of  Language*        Ch.  XVIII* 

mitted,  whether  the  period  would  not  do  better  in 
the  following  manner  : 

If  men  of  eminence  be  cxpofed  to  cenfure  on  the  one 
hand,  they  arc  as  much  ex  poled  to  flattery  on  the  other.  If 
they  receive  reproaches  that  are  not  due,  they  likewjfe  re- 
ceive praifes  that  are  not  due. 

I  cannot  but  fancy,  however,  that  this  imitation,  whiclt 
pafles  fo  currently  with  other  judgmenlsy  muft  at  fome  time 
or  other  have  fluck  a  little  with  your  Lonljhip*  [Better 
thus :]  I  cannot  but  fancy,  however,  that  this  imitation 
which  paffes  fo  currently  with  oihcn,  muft  at  fome  lime  or 
other  have  ftuck  a  Utile  with  your  Lordjliip. 

A  glutton  or  mere  fenfualift  is  as  ridiculous  as  the  other 
two  charadlers. 

Shaftefburyt  vol.  \.  p.  129. 

They  wifely  prefer  the  generous  ejfhrts  of  good-will  a7:ii 
ajfeciioriy  to  the  reluctant  compliances  of  Juch  as  obey  by 
torcc. 

Remarks  on  the  hijiory  of  England,  letter  5.  BoUnghrshe. 

Titus  Livlus,  mentioning  a  demand  made  by  the 
people  of  Enna  of  the  keys  from  the  Roman  gov- 
ernor, makes  him  fay, 

QiTas  fimul  tradiderimus,  Carthaginienfium  extemplo 
Enna  erit,  tocdiufque  hie  trucidabimur,  quam  Murganttae 
pr.tfidium  interfe6luvn  eft. 

/.  24.  §  38. 

Quintus  Curtms,  fpeaking  of  Porus  mounted  oi^ 
in  Elephant,  and  leading  jhis  army  to  battle  : 


Magnitudini 


*  Ltttei"  concerning  cmhufiafm.     Shafultur 


Sect.  11.  JBeduty  of  Langiiags,  j2cj 

Magnitudini  Fori  adjicere  videbatur  bcUiia  qua  vcheba- 
tijr,  tantum  inter  caeteras  eminens,  quanto  aliis  ipfe  piae- 
ftabat. 

/.  8.  cap,  14. 

I  It  is  ftill  a  greater  deviation  from  congrulty,  to  af- 
fect not  only  variety  in  the  words,  but  alfo  in  thti 
conftrudionJ  Defcribing  Thermopylae,  Titus  Livi- 
us  fays, 

Id  jugum,  ficut  Apennini  dorfo  Italia  dividitur,  ita  me- 
diam  Grasciam  direniit. 

/.  36.  §  15. 

Speaking  of  Shakefpear. 

There  may  remain  a  fufplclon  that  wc  over- rate  the 
greatnefs  ot  his  genius,  in  the  fame  manner  as  bodies  ap- 
pear more  giganiic  on  account  of  their  being  difproportion- 
ed  and  mislhapen. 

Hijiory  of  G.  Briiain,  vol.  i.  p.  138. 

This  is  ftudying  variety  in  a  period  where  the  beau- 
ty lies  in  uniformity.     Better  thus  : 

There  may  remain  a  fufpicion  that  we  over-rate  the 
greatnefs  of  his  genius,  in  the  fame  manner  as  we  over-rate 
the  greatnefs  of  bodies  that  are  difproportioned  and  mil- 
lliapen. 

Next  as  to  the  length  of  the  members  that  fignify 
the  refembling  objects.  I  To  produce  a  refemblancej 
between  fuch  members,  they  ought  not  only  to  be/ 
ccnflruded  in  the  fame  manner,  but  as  nearly  as! 
poifible  be  ec|ual  in  length.l  By  neglecting  this  cir-1 
cumftance,  the  following  example  is  defective  in 
neatnefs. 

As 


3€>  Beauty  of  Language.        Ch.  XVIiT, 

As  the  performance  of  all  other  religions  duties  will  not 
avail  in  the  fight  of  God,  without  charity  ;  fo  neither  will 
the  difcharge  of  all  other  miniiieri-il  duties  avail  in  the 
fight  of  menj  without  'a  faithful  dij charge  of  this  principal 
duty. 

DiJJertation  upon  parties.  Dedication. 

in  the  following  palTage  ate  accumulated  all  the  errors 
that  a  period  expreffing  a  refemblance  can  well  admit. 

Miniflers  are  anfwerable  for  every  "thing  done  to  the 
prejudice  of  the  conftitution,  in  the  fame  proportion  as  the 
prefervation  of  the  conftitution  in  its  purity  and  vigour,  or 
tlie  perverting  and  weakening  it,  are  of  greater  confe- 
quence  to  the   nation,  than  any  other  inftances  of  good  or 


bad  government. 


DiJJertation  upon  parties.  Dedication. 


Kext  of  a  comparlfori  where  things  are  oppofed  to 
each  other.  /And  here  it  muft  be  obvious,  that  if 
refemblance  ought  to  be  ftudied  in  the  words  which 
exprefs  two  refeinbling  objeds,  there  is  equal  reafon 
for  fludying  oppofition  in  the  words  which  exprefs 
contrafted  objeds./  This  rule  will  be  bed  illuflrated 
by  examples  of  deviations  from  it ; 

A  friend  exaggerates  a  man's  virtues,  an  enetnv  inflames 
his  crimes.  Spectator^  No.  399. 

Here  the  oppofition  in  the  thought  is  neglefted  in, 
the  words,  which  at  firft:  view  feem  to  import,  that 
the  friend  and  the  enemy  are  employed  in  different 
matters,  without  any  relation  to  each  other,  whether 
of  refemi)lance  or  of  oppofition.  And  therefore  the 
contrafh  or  oppofition  will  be  better  marked  by  ex- 
preffing the  thought  as  follows. 

A  friend  exaggerates  a  man's  virtues,  an  enemy  his 
crimes. 

The 


Sect.  II.  Beauty  of  Language*  %t 

'  The  following  are  examples  of  the  fame  kind  : 

The  wife  man  is  happy  when  he  gains  his  own  appro*- 
batlon  ;  the  fool  when  he  recommends  hiinCelf  to  the  ap- 
plaiife  of  thole  about  him.  Ibid.  Noi  73. 

Better  : 

The  wife  man  is  happy  when  he  gains  his  own  apprcH 
bation  ;  the  fool  when  he  gains  that  of  others. 

Siciit  in  frngihus  pecudihurque,  non  tantum  femina  ad 
fervandum  indolem  valent,  quantum  terrae  proprietas  coe- 
lique,  fub  quo  aluntur,  mutat.  Livy^  lib.  3S.  §  17. 

We  proceed  to  a  rule  of  a  different  kind. /During 
the  courfe  of  a  period,  the  fcene  ought  to  be  contin- 
ued without  variatior^  the  changing  from  perfon  to 
perfon,  from  fubje'^to  fubjecf,  or  from  perlon  to 
fubjeft,  within  the  bounds  of  a  fmgle  period,  diftracls 
the  mind,  and  affords  no  time  for  afolid  impreffion. 
I  illuftrate  this  rule  by  giving  examples  of  deviations 
from  it 

Honos  alit  artes,  omnefque  incenduntur  ad  fludia  gloria; 
jacentque  ea  femper  quae  apud  quofque  iraprobantur, 

Ckeroy  TufciiL  quejl.  l.  i. 

Speaking  of  the  diftemper  contracted  by  Alexan- 
der bathing  in  the  river  Cydnus,and  of  the  cure  of- 
fered by  Philip  the  phyfician  : 

Inter  hzec  a  Parraenione  fidifllmo  pnrpuratorum,  literas 
accipit,  quibns  ei  denunciabaty  ne  laUitem  fuam  Philippo 
committeret. 

J^uintus  Curt  ins  y  L  3.  cap.  6. 

Hook,  in  his  Roman  hlllory,  fpeaking  of  Eumenes, 
who  had  been  beat  to  the  ground  with  a  (lone,  fays, 

Alter 


32  beauty  of  Language.        Ch.  XVIlL 

After  a  fhort  time  he  came  to  himfelf  ;  and  the  next  day, 
they  put  liirn  on  board  his  fliip,  which  conveyed  him  firft  to 
Corinth,  and  thence  to  the  ifland  of  iEgina. 

I  give  another  example  of  a  period  which  is  unpleaf- 
ant,  even  by  a  very  flight  deviation  from  the  rule : 

That  fort  of  inftru6lion  which  is  acquired  by  inculcating 
an  important  moral  truth,  ^r. 

This  expreffion  includes  two  perfons,  one  acquiring^ 
and  one  inculcating  ;  and  the  fcene  is  changed  with- 
out neceflity.  "Jo  avoid  this  blemifli,  the  thought 
may  be  exprefled  thus  : 

That  fort  of  inflru£lion  which  is  afforded  by  inculcat- 
ing, i^c. 

The  bad  effeft  of  fuch  change  of  perfon  is  remarka* 
ble  in  the  following  paflage. 

The  Britonsy  daily  haralTed  by  cruel  inroads  from  the 
Pi6^s,  were  forced  to  call  in  the  Saxons  for  their  defence, 
zvho  confequently  reduced  the  greateft  part  of  the  ifland  to 
their  own  power,  drove  the  Britons  into  the  moft  remote 
and  mountainous  parts,  and  the  rej]  of  the  countryy  in  cuf- 
toms,  religion,  and  language,  became  wholly    Saxons. 


noiiy 
'reajuj 


Letter  to  the  Lord  High  Treajurer.    Swift > 

The  following  paflage  has  a  change  from   fubje6t  to 
perfon. 

This  proJ^itutioH  of  praife  \s  not  only  a  deceit  upon  the 
grofs  of  mankind,  who  take  their  notion  of  characters 
from  the  learned  ;  but  alfo  the  better  fort  muff  by  this 
means  lofe  ftune  part  at  lead  of  that  defire  of  fame  which 
is  the  incentive  to  generous  a£lions,  when  they  find  it  pro- 
niifc-uoully  bcilovveU  on  the  meritorious  and  undeferving. 

Guardian^  No.  4. 
Even 


Sect.  II.  Beauty  of  Language,        ,  32 

(Even  fo  flight  a  change  as  to  vary  the  conftrudion  / 
in  the  fame  period,  is  unpleafantf:  ' 

Annibal  luce  prima,  Balearibus  levique  alia  armatura 
prasmifTa,  tranfgreffus  flumen,  ut  quofque  traduxerat,  ita  in 
acie  locabat  ^  Gallos  Hifpanofcjue  equites  prope  ripam 
lasvo  in  cornu  adverfus  Romanum  equitatura  5  dextrum 
cornu  Numidis  equitibus  datum. 

Tit.  Liv.  I.  22.  §  46. 

Speaking  of  Hannibal's  elephants  drove  back  by  the 
enemy  upon  his  own  army  : 

Eornagis  ruere  in  fuos  belluae,  tantoque  majorem  flragem 
edere  quam  inter  hoftes  ediderant,  quanto  acrius  pavor  con- 
flernatam  agit,  quam  infidentis  magiftri  imperio  regitur. 

Liv .  1.  27.  §  14. 

This  paffage  is  alfo  faulty  in  a  different  refpeft,  that 
there  is  no  refemblance  between  the  members  of  the 
fentence,  though  they  exprefs  a  fimile 

The  prefent  head,  which  relates  to  the  choice  of 
materials,  fhall  be  clofed  with  a  rule  concerning  the 
ufe  of  copulatives.  Longinus  obferves,  that  it  ani- 
mates a  period  to  drop  the  copulatives  ;  and  he  gives 
the  following  example  from  Xenophon. 

Clofmg  their  fhields  together,  they  were  pufli'd,  they 
fought,   they  flew,  they  were  llain. 

Treat ije  of  the  Sublime ,  cap.  16, 

The  reafon  I  take  to  be  what  follows.  /A  continued 
found,  if  not  loud,  tends  to  lay  us  afieep  :  an  inter- 
rupted found  roufes  and  animates  by  its  repeated  im- 
pulfes.  /  Thus  feet  compofed  of  fyllables,  being  pro- 
nounced with  a  fenfible  interval  between  each,  make 
more  lively  imprelTions  than  can  be  made  by  a  contin- 
ued, 
Vol.  XL  C 


34  Benuif  of  Language,         Ch.  XVIIL 

lied  found.  A  period  of  which  the  members  are  con- 
nefted  by  copulatives,  prodiiceth  an  effect:  upon  the 
mind  approaching  to  that  of  a  continued  found  ;  and 
therefore  the  fuppreffing  copulatives  muft  animate  a 
defcription.  It  produces  a  different  effeft  akin  to  that 
mentioned  :  the  members  of  a  period  canne£led  by 
proper  copulatives,  glide  fmoothly  and  gently  along  ; 
and  are  a  proof  of  fedatenefs  and  leifure  in  the  fpeak- 
er  :  on  the  other  hand,  one  in  the  hurry  of  paflloa 
neglefting  copulatives  and  other  particles,  expreffes 
the  principal  image  only  ;  and  for  that  reafon,  hurry 
or  quick  action  is  befl  expreifed  without  copulatives : 


Veni,  vidi,  vici. 


•Tte: 


Feite  citi  flammas,  date  vela,  impellke  remos. 

Mne'id.  iv.  593, 

Q^iis  globus,  O  civt«,  caligine  volvitur  atra  r 
Ferte  ciii  termm,  date  tela,  fcaiidite  inuros. 
Hoilis  adeft,  eja. 

JEnc'td.  ix.  3y. 

In  this  viev/  Longinus*  juflly  compares  copulatives 
in  a  period  to  ftrait  tying,  which  in  a  face  obllruQs 
the  freedom  of  motion. 

/It  follows,  that  a  plurality  of  copulatives  in  the 
fame  period  ought  to  be  avoided  ;  for  if  the  laying 
afide  copulatives  give  force  and  livelinefs,  a  redun- 
dancy of  them  mufl  render  the  period  languid.  I 
appeal  to  the  following  indance,  though  there  are 
but  two  copulatives. 

Upvon  looking  over  the  letter?;  cf  my  female  correfpond- 
ents,    I  find  fevcral   from   women  compbining  of  jealous 

hufbaiids  j 

*  Treaiifc  oftb;  Subliffic,  cap.  iH, 


Sect.  II.  Beauty  of  Language.  35 

huibands  ;  and  at  the  fume  time  protefting  their  own  inno- 
cence, and  defiring  my  advice  upon  this  occalion. 

ope£fatory  No.  170.  -n  -/  T* 

I  except  the  cafe  fvhere  the  words  are  intended  to  j^ujcyi 
exprefs   the  coldneis  of  the  fpeakei^;  for   there   the  t^^ 
redundancy  of  copulatives  is  a  beauty  : 

Dining  one  day  at  an  alderman's  in  the  city,  Peter  ob- 
fefved  him  expatiating  after  the  manner  of  his  brethren,  in 
the  praifes  of  his  fiiloin  of  bttf.  '*  Beef,"  faid  the  fage 
magiltrate,  '*  is  the  king  of  meat  :  Beef  comprehends  in 
it  the  quinteffcnce  of  partridge,  and  quail,_  and  venifon,  and 
pheafant,  and  plum-pudding,  and  cullard. 

Tale  of  a  Tuhy  §  4. 

And  the  author  fhows  great  delicacy  of  taile  by  va- 
rying the  expreflion  in  the  mouth  of  Peter,  who  is 
reprefented  more  animated  : 

**  Bread,"  fays  he,  "  dear  brothers,   is   the  flafT  of  life  ; 
in  which  bread  is  contained,   inchifve,  the   quintelTence  of, 
beef,  mutton,  veal,  venifon,  partridges,  plum-pudding,  and 
cuflard." 


Another  cafe  mud  alfo  be  excepted  :  copulatives 
have  a  good  effect  where  the  intention  is  to  give  an 
impreiTion  of  a  great  multitude  confiding  of  many 
divifions  ;  for  example  :  "  The  army  was  compofed 
of  Grecians,  and  Carians,  and  Lycians,  ajid  Pam- 
phylians,  and  Phrygians."  The  reafon  is,  that  a 
ieifurely  furvey,  which  is  exprelTed  by  the  copula- 
tives, makes  the  parts  appear  more  numerous  than 
ihey  would  do  by  a  hafly  furvey  :  in  the  latter  cafe 
the  army  appears  in  one  group  j  in  the  former,  we 

take 


Ca 


..^ 


J 


6  Beauty  of  Language,  Ch.  XVIIl. 

take  as  it  were  an  accurate  furvey  of  each  nation  and 
of  each  divifion.* 

/         i      We  proceed  to  the  fecond  kind  of  beauty  ;  which 

OJ C't^^coi\i\^s  in  a  due  arrangehient  of  the  words  or  ma- 

/hlt^rH  terials.^    This  branch  of  the   fubjeft  is  no  lefs  nice 

/   than  extenfive  ;  and  I  defpair  of  fetting  it  in  a  clear 

light,  except  to  thofe  who  are   well  acquainted  with 

the  general  principles  that  govern  the  flruclure  or 

compofition  of  language. 

/  (in  a  thought,    generally  fpcaking,  there  is  at  leafl 
pne  capital  ol3Ject  confidered  as  afting  or  as  fufFering. 
/This  objed:   is   expreffed  by  a  fubftantive  noun  ;  its 
f  adion  is  expreffed  by  an  aftive  verb  ;   and  the  thing 
/affe6led  by  the  action   is  expreffed  by  another  fub- 
/  ftantive  noun :  its  fuffering  or  paffive  flate  is  expreff- 
ed by  a  paffive  verb  ;  and  the  thing  that   ads   upon 
it,  by  a  fubftantive  noun.l  Befide  thefe,  which  are  the 
capital  parts  of  a  fentence  or  period,  there  are  gener- 
ally under-parts  ;  each  of  the  fubftantives  as  well  as 
the  verb,    may  be  qualified  :  time,    place,    purpofe, 
motive,   means,  inftrument,    and    a  thoufand  other 
circumftances,  may   be  neceffary   to  complete  the 
thought.     And   in   what   manner  thefe  feveral  parts 
are  conneded  in  the  expreffion,   will  appear  from 
j|   "     what  follows. 

'   i  In  a  complete  thought  or  mental  propofition,  all 

/the    members  and  parts  are   mutually  related,  fome 

/flightly,  fome  intimately.      To  put  fuch  a  thought  in 

/  words,  it  is  not  fufficient   that  the  component  ideas 

/  be  clearly  expreffed  ;  it  is  alfo  neceffary,  that  all  the 

/    relations  contained  in  the  thought  be  expreffed  ac- 

I    cording  to  their  different  degrees  of  intimacy!    To 

annex  a  certain  meaning  to  a  certain  found  or  word, 

requires 

*  See  Demetrius  Flialcieus  of  Elocution,  fed.  63. 


•Sect.  IL  '  Beauty  of  Language.  37 

requires  no  art  :  the  great  nicety  in  all  languages  is, 
to  exprefs  the  various  relations  that  conne<^l:  the  parts 
of  the  thought.  Could  we  fuppofe  this  branch  of 
language  to  be  ftill  a  fecret,  it  would  puzzle,  I  am 
apt  to  think,  the  acuteft  grammarian,  to  invent  an 
expeditious  method :  and  yet,  by  the  guidance  mere- 
ly of  nature,  the  rude  and  illiterate  have  been  led  to 
a  method  fo  perfect,  as  to  appear  not  fufceptible  of 
any  improvement ;  and  the  next  ftep  in  our  progrefs 
fhall  be  to  explain  that  method. 

Words  that  import  a  relation,  mult  be  diftinguilli-     y^ 
ed  from  fuch    as  do  not.     Subftantives    commonly  ^^^^j 
imply  no  relation  ;  fuch    as  animal^  man^  tree\  river.   *"'/ 
Adjectives,   verbs,    and   adverbs,  imply  a   relation  : 
the  adjedtive  good  muft  relate  to  fome  being  poflelfed 
of  that  quality  :  the    verb  write   is    applied  to  fome 
perfon   who  writes  ;  and  the  adverbs  moderately^  dil- 
igently,   have     plainly    a   reference      to    fome    ac- 
tion which  they  modify.    /When  a  relative  word   is 
introduced,  it  mufl  be  fignified  by  the  expreffion  to 
what  word  it  relates,  without  which  the  fenfe  is  not     ^rv'^ 
complete./  For  anfwering  that  purpofe,  I  obferve  in    ^i^^^ 
Greek  and  Latin  two  diiferent  methods7     Adjectives    /:^^y/^ 
are  declined  as  well  as  fubitantives  ,5  and  declenfion  %. 

ferves  to  afcertain  their  connection  :    If  the  word  that  ^^ 

exprefles  the  fubject  be,  for  example,  in  the  nomina-  ^^j-^^y. 
tive  cafe,  fo  alfo  .mufl  the  word  be  that  exprelfes  its  ^^l^ 
quality  ;  example,  vir  bonus  :  again,  verbs  are  relat-  j^ 

ed,  on  the  one  hand,  to  the  agent,  and,  on  the  other,  ^/t^/^ 
to  the  fubject  upon  which  the  action  is  exerted  :  and  (am^^ 
a  contrivance  fimilar  to  that  now  mentioned,  ferves  to 
exprefs  the  double  relation  ;  the  nominative  cafe  is 
appropriated  to  the  agent,  the  accufative  to  the  paf- 
five  fubject ;  and  the  verb  is  put  in  the  firft,  fecond, 
pr  third  perfon,  to  intimate  its  connedion  with  thp 

word 

C3 


3 5  Beauty  of  Language.  '         Ch.  XVIII, 

word  that  fignifies  the  agent :  examples.  Ego  amo  Tul" 
liam  ;  tu  amas  Semproniatn  ;  Brutus  afnat  Portiam, 
The  other  method  is  by  juxtapofition,  wh.ch  is  neceffa- 
ry  with  refped  to  fuch  words  only  as  are  not  declined, 
adverbs,  for  example,  articles,  prepofirions,  and  con- 
junctions.  \  In'  the  Engiilh  languague  there  are  few 

I  declenfion? ;  and  therefore  juxtapofition  is  our  chief 
refource  :  adjeftives  accompany  their  fubftantive*  j* 
an  adverb  accompanies  the  word  it  qualifies  ;  and 
the  verb  occupies  the  middle  place  between  the 
?.6tive   and   paflive  fubicfts  to  which  it  relates. 

It  mult  l.e  obviou;},  that  thofe  terms  which  have 
nothing  relative  in  their  fignification,  cannot  be  con- 
nected in  fo  eafy  a  manner.  When  two  fubflantives 
happen  to  be  connedted,  as  caufe  and  efl'cd,  as  princi- 
pal and  acceiTory,  or  in  any  other  manner,  fuch  con- 
nexion cannot  be  exprefled  by  contiguity  folely  ;  for 
words  muf:  often  in  a  period  be  placed  togetiier  which 
are  not  t^us  related  :  the  relation  between  fubflan- 
tives, therefore,  cannot  otherwife  be  exprefied  but  by 
panicles  denoting  the  relation.  Latin  indeed  and 
Greek,  by  their  declenfiontj,  go  a  certain  length  to 
exprcfs  fuch '  relations,  without  the  aid  of  particles. 
The  relation  of  property  for  exam.ple,  betv/een  Csefar 
and  his  horfe,  is  expreifcd  by  putting  the  latter  in  the 
nominative  cafe,  the  former  in  the  genitive  :  cquus  Cie- 

faris  :  the  fame  is  alfo  exprciTed  in  Enolilli  without 
the  aid  of  a  parricic,  Capr\  horfe.  But  in  other  in- 
flances,    declenfions   not  being    ufed  in  the  EngHfh 

language, 

*  Taking  acivantap,o  of  a  d*  dcnfT'ii  to  frnnratc  dd  adjeflive  from  iis  fiib- 
flantivc.  ai  is  connrn-nlv  prattifcd  in  Latin,  though  it  detraft  not  from 
pfif  ictii'v,  isre  tbinly  lers  neat  tliaii  ihe  Eng'ili;  method  of  Juxtapofition. 
Contiyuitv  is  more  expfpffive  of  an  imimate  relation,  than  refcinblance 
merely  <  f  t!'-  final  fvllahlfs.  Lntio  irtleed  has  evidently  the  advantaije 
wher.  the  ac!jcffive  and  lublfant  vc  hr-pren  to  be  connecltd  by  contiguity, 
as  v'/eil  a>  by  refcmblar.cc  of  tl;c  fiDal  IvJLb'i^^s. 


Sect.  II.  Beauty  of  language*  yy 

language,  relations  of  this  kind  are  comrnouiy  eK}3]:eff- 
ed  by  prepofitions.  Examples  :  That  wine  came 
from  Cyp-iius.  He  is  going  to  Paris.  The  fmi  is  be- 
low  the  horizon. 

This  formof  conneding  by  prepofitions,  is  not  con- 
jfined  to  fubllantives.  Quahties,  attributes,  manner  of 
exilting  or  acting,  and  ail  other  circumflances,  may  ia 
the  fame  manner  be  connected  with  the  fubltances  to 
which  they  relate.  This  is  done  artificially  by  Qon- 
verting  the  circumftance  into  a  fubftantive  ;  in  which 
condition  it  is  quahfied  to  be  connected  with  the  prin- 
cipal fubjedl  by  a  prepofition,  in  the  manner  above 
defcribed.  For  example,  the  adjective  'ujife  being  con- 
verted into  the  fubftantive  iL-ifdom^  gives  opportunity 
for  the  exprellion  "  a  man  of  wifdom,"  inftead  of 
the  more  fimple  exprefiion  a  ivfe  man  :  this  variety 
in  the  expreffion,  enriches  language.  I  obferve,  be- 
fide,  that  the  ufuig  a  prepontion  in  this  cafe,  is  not 
always  a  matter  of  choice  :  it  is  indifpenfable  with 
refped  to  every  circumftance  that  cannot  be  cxprefl-  ^x,  .^ 
ed  by  a  fmgle  adjective  or  adverb.  i/^A 

.  To  pave  the  way  for  the  rules  of  arrangement,  t  la^Z'h^ 
one  other  preliminary  is  neceffary  ;  which  is,  to  ex-  ^/ul/^^, 
plain  the  difference  between  a  natural  ftyle,  and  that 
where  tranfpofition  or  inverfion  prevails.  There  are, 
it  is  true,  no  precife  boundaries  between  them,  for 
they  run  into  each  other  like  the  fliades  of  different 
qolours-  No  perfon,  however,  is  at  a  lofs  to  dilHn- 
guilli  them  in  their  extremes :  and  it  is  neceffary  to 
make  the   dillindion  :  becaufe  thouGfh   fonie'of  the 

o 

rules  I  iliall  have  occafion  to  mention  are  conunon 
to  both,  yet  each  have  rules  peculiar  to  itfelf.  fin  a 
natural  ityle,  relative  word.?  are  by  juxtapofition \on- 
nedted  with  thofe  to  v^hich  thev  relate,  going  before 
or  after,  according  to  the  peculiar  genius  of  the  lan- 
guage.^ Again,  a  circumftance  connefted  by  a  prep>«  2~. 
y      "^  C  4  ofition. 


4©  Beauty  of  Language,         Ch.  XVIH. 

ofition,  follows  naturally  the  word  with  which  it 
is  conneded.  But  this  arrangement  may  be  varied, 
when  a  different  order  is  more  beautiful  i/STcircum- 
ance  may  be  placed  before  the  word  wim  which  it 
is  conneded  by  a  prepofitioft  ;  and  may  be  interjeft- 
ed  even  between  a  relative  word  and  that  to  which 
it  relates.  When  fuch  liberties  are  frequently  taken, 
the  ftyle  becomes  inverted  or  tranfpofed. 

But  as  the  liberty  of  inverfion  is  a  capital  point 
in  the  prefent  fubjed,  it  will  be  neceflfary  to  examine 
it  more  narrowly,  and  in  particular  to  trace  the  fev- 
eral  degrees  in  which  an  inverted  flyle  recedes  more 
and  more  from  that  which  is  natural.  And  firft,  as 
to  the  placing  a  circumftance  before  the  word  with 
which  it  is  connefted,  I  obferve,  that  it  is  the  eafiefl 
of  all  inverfion,  even  fo  eafy  as  to  be  conliftent  with 
a  ftyle  that  is  properly  termed  natural :  witnefs  the 
following  examples. 

In  the  fincerity  of  my  heart,  I  profefs,  &c. 

By  our  own  ill  management,  we  are  brought  to  folovr 
an  ebb  of  wealth  and  credit,  that,  &c. 

On  Thurfday  morning  there  was  little  or  nothing  tranf- 
afled  in  Change-alley. 

At  St  Bribe's  church  in  Fleet-ftreet,  Mr.  Woolfton, 
(who  writ  againfl;  the  miracles  of  our  Saviour)  in  the  ut- 
molt  terrors  ot  confcience,  made  a  public  recantation. 

The  interjecting  a  circumftance  between  a  relative 
word,  and  that  to  which  it  relates  is  more  properly 
termed  inverfion  ;  becaufe  by  a  disj\m£lion  of  words 
intimately  connefted,  it  recedes  farther  from  a  natu- 
ral ftyle.  But  this  licence  has  degrees  ;  for  the  dif- 
j unction  is  more  violent  in  fome  inftances  than  in 

others. 


Sect.  II.  Beauty  of  Language.  41 

others.  And  to  give  a  jufl  notion  of  the  diiTerence, 
there  is  a  neceffity  to  enter  a  Httle  more  into  an  ab- 
ftra<St  fubjed,  than  would  otherwife  be  my  inclina- 
tion. 

In  nature,  though  a  fubjeft  cannot  exifl  without 
its  quahties,  nor  a  quality  without  a  fubjecl ;  yet  in 
our  conception  of  thefe,  a  material  difference  may  be 
remarked.  I  cannot  conceive  a  quality  but  as  belong- 
ing to  fome  fubjed  :  It  makes  indeed  a  part  of  the 
idea  which  is  formed  of  the  fubjed.  But  the  op- 
pofite  holds  not  ;  for  though  I  cannot  form  a  con- 
ception of  a  fubjeil  void  of  all  qualities,  a  partial 
conception  may  be  formed  of  it,  abftrading  from 
any  particular  quality  :  I  can,  for  example,  form  the 
idea  of  a  fine  Arabian  horfe  without  regard  to  his 
colour,  or  of  a  white  horfe  without  regard  to  his  fize. 
Such  partial  conception  of  a  fubjed,  is  ftill  more  ea- 
fy  with  refped  to  adion  or  motion  ;  which  is  an  oc- 
cafional  attribute  only,  and  has  not  the  fame  perma- 
nency with  colour  or  figure  :  I  cannot  form  an  idea 
of  motion  independent  of  a  body  ;  but  there  is 
nothing  more  eafy  than  to  form  an  idea  of  a  body  at 
reft.  Hence  it  appears,  that  the  degree  of  inverfion 
depends  greatly  on  the  order  in  which  the  related 
words  are  placed  :  when  a,  fubftantive  occupies  the 
firft  place,  the  idea  it  fuggells  muft  fubfift  in  the 
miud  at  leaft  for  a  moment,  independent  of  the  rel- 
ative words  afterward  introduced  ;  and  that  mo- 
ment may  without  difficulty  be  prolonged  by  inter- 
jecting a  circumltance  between  a  fubftantive  and  its 
connedions.  This  liberty,  therefore,  however  fre- 
quent, will  fcarce  aloi-e  be  fufficlent  to  denominate  a 
ftyle  inverted.  The  cafe  is  very  different,  where  the 
word  that  occupies  the  firft  place  denotes  a  quiility 
or  an  adion  ;  for  as  th,efe  cannot  be  conceived  with- 
out a  fubjed,  they  cannot  without  greater  violence 

be 


42  Beauty  of  Language,        Cii.  XVIII. 

be  feparated  from  the  fubjed  that  follows  ;  and  for 
that  reafon,  every  fuch  feparation,  by  means  of  an 
interjefted  circumflaiice  belongs  to  an  inverted  ftyle. 
To  illuflrate  this  dodrine,  examples  are  neceflary, 
and  I  Ihail  begin  with  thofe  where  the  word  firit 
introduced  does  not  imply  a  relation. 


Her  former  trefpafs  fear'd. 


-Nor  Eve  to  iterate 


-HunErcrand  thirll  at  once, 


Powerful  perfiiaders,  qijicken'd  at  t'oe  fcent 
Of  that  alluring  fruit,  urg'd  me  fo  keen. 

Moon  that  now  meet'il  the  orient  fun,  now  fii'ft 
With  the  fix'd  ftars,  fix'd  in  their  orb  that  flies, 
And  ye  five  other  v/and'ring  iires  that  move 
In  myflic  dance  not  without  long,  refound 
His  praife. 

In  the  following  examples,  where  the  word  firfl 
introduced  imports  a  relation,  the  disjundion  will 
te  found  more  violent. 

Of  man's  firif  difobcdiencc,  and  the  fruit 
Or  that  forbidden  tree,  whofe  mortal  tadc 
Brought  death  into  the  world,  and  all  cur  wo. 
With  lofs  of  Eden,  till  one  greater  man 
Rcrtorc  us,  and  regain  the  blilsful  ftat, 
Sing  heav'nly  mufe. 

-Upon  the  firm  op'acious  globe 


Of  this  round  world,  whofe  full:  convex  divides 
The  luminous  inferior  orbs  iuclos'd 
From  chaos  and  th'  inroad  of  uarkncfs  old, 
Satan  alighted  walks. 


On 


Sect.  II.  Beauty  of  LanguHge>  43 

_-—,.. On  a  fudden  open  fly 

With  impetuous  recoil  and  jarring  found, 
Th'  internal  doors. 

Wherein  remain 'd. 

For  what  could  elfe  ?  to  our  ahnighty  foe 
Clear 'victory,  to  our  partlofs  and  iowt. 

. Forth  rufh'd,  Avith  \^hirlvvind  found 


The  chariot  of  paternal  Deity. 

Language  would  have  no  great  power,  were  it 
contined  to  the  natural  order  of  ideas.  I  fhali  foon 
have  opportunity  to  make  it  evident,  that  by  inver- 
fion  a  thoufand  beauties  may  be  compafTed,  which 
muft  be  relinquiftied  in  a  natural  arrangement.  In 
the  mean  time  it  ought  not  to  cfcape  obfervation, 
that  the  mind  of  man  is  happily  fo  conllituted  as  to 
relifli  inverfion,  though  in  one  refpe61;  unnatural  ; 
and  to  relifli  it  fo  much,  as  in  many  cafes  to  admit  a 
feparation  between  words  the  moft  intimately  con- 
nected. It  can  fcarce  be  faid  that  inverfion  has  any 
limits ;  though  I  may  venture  to  pronounce,  that 
the  disjimclion  of  articles,  conjundions,  or  prepo- 
fnions,  from  the  words  to  which  they  belong,  has 
very  feldom  a  good  effect.  The  following  example 
with  relation  to  a  prepofition,  is  perhaps  as  tolerable 
as  any  of  the  kind  : 

He  would  r.either  feparate/^-^PW  nor  ad  againft  ihem. 

I  give  notice  to  the  reader,  that  I  am  now  ready 
to  enter  on  the  rules  of  arrangement ;  beginning 
with  a  natural  ftyle,  and  proceeding  gradually  to 
what  is  the  moft  inverted.  And  in  the  arrangement 
of  a  period,  as  v/ell  as  in  a  right  choice  of  words, 
the  firll  and   great  objed  being  perfpicuity,  the  rule 

above 


44  Beauty  of  Language.         Ch.  X  VIIL 

above  laid  down,  that  perfpicuity  ought  not  to  be  fac- 

rificed  to  any  other  beauty,   holds  equally  in  both. 

Ambiguities   occafioned    by  a  wrong  arrangement 

- ;  are  of  two  forts  ;     one   where    the   arrangement 

/I  '^  1  *     ^}^'^^'^  ^^  ^  wrong  fenfe,  and   one  where  the  fenfe  is 

)Jpfy^Mt^ek  doubtful.      The  firft,  being  the  more  culpable, 

/    /ihall  take  the   lead,    beginning   with   examples   of 

words  put  in  a  wrong  place. 

H  )vv  much  the  imagination  of  fuch  a  prefencc  mufl  ex- 
alt a  genius,  we  m^y  obferve  merely  from  the  iufiuence 
wiiich  an  ordinary  prefence  has  overmen. 

CharaEler'iJi'ics.  vol.  i.  p.  7. 

This  arrangement  leads  to  a  wrong  fenfe  :  the  ad- 
verb merely  feems  by  its  pofition  to  affecl  the  preced- 
ing word  ;  whereas  it  is  intended  to  affect  the  fol- 
lowing words,  an  ordinary  prefence  /  and  therefore 
the  arrangement  ought  to  be  thus  : 

How  much  the  imagination  of  fuch  a  prefence  mult  ex- 
alt a  genius,  we  may  obferve  trom  the  influence  which  an 
ordinary  prefence  merely  has  over  men.  \Oty  better,^ 
which  even  an  ordinary  prefence  has  over  men. 

The  time  of  the  election  of  a  poet-lauret  being  now  at 
band,  it  may  be  proper  to  give  fome  account  ot  the  rites 
and  ceremonies  anciently  ufed  at  that  folemnity,  and  o«/y 
ttifcontinucd  through  the  negie<5\  and  degeneracy  of  later 
times. 

Guardian. 

The  term  oyily  is  intended  to  qualify  the  noun  de- 
generacy, and  not  the  participle  difcontiniied ;  and 
t-hetefore  the  arrangement  ought  to  be  as  follows  : 

■^ at)d   difcontinued   through  the   iiegkft  and 


degeneracy  only  of  later  times. 

Slxtu& 


Sect.  n.  Beauty  of  Language,  45 

Sixtus  the  Fourth  was,  if  I  miftake  not,  a  grea-t  collec- 
tor ot  books  at  Icaft. 

Letters  on  Hijhryy  vol.  i.  let  6.     BoUnghrohe, 

The  expreffion  here  leads  evidently  to  a  wrong  fenfe  j 
the  adverb  at  leq/i,  ought  not  to  be  connefted  with 
the  fubftantive  books,  but  with  colk6lor  thus  : 

Sixtus  the  Fourth  was  a  great  colledlor  at  lead  of  books. 

Speaking  of  Lewis  XIV. 

If  lie  was  not  the  greateft  king,  he  was  the  bell  aflor  of 
majefty  at  lealt,  that  ever  filled  a  throne. 

Ibid,  Utter  1^ 

Better  thus  : 

If  he  was  not  the  greateft  king,  he  was  at  leaft  the  bell 
aclor  of  majefty,  &c. 

This  arrangement  removes  the  wrong  fenfe  occafion- 
ed  by  the  juxtapofition  of  ;nj/'^}'  and  at  leaji. 

The  following  examples  are  of  a  wrong  arrange- 
ment of  members. 

I  have  confined  myfelf  to  thofe  methods  for  the  advance- 
ment of  piety,  which  are  in  the  power  of  a  prince  limited 
like  ours  by  a  flri6l  execution  of  the  laws. 

A projeSl  for  the  advancement  of  religion.      Swift. 

The  ftrudure  of  this  period  leads  to  a  meaning 
which  is  not  the  author's,  'viz.  power  limited  by  a 
ftriiSi  execution  of  the  laws.  That  wrong  fenfe  is 
removed  by  tte  following  arrangement : 

I  have  confined  myfelf  to  thofe  methods  for  the  advance- 
ment of  piety,  which  by  a  firidt  execution  of  the  laws,  are 
in  the  power  of  a  prince  limited  like  ours. 

This 


4^  Beautf  ofLan^ta^e.        Ch.  XVIIL 

This  morniiig,  when  one  of  Lady  Lizard's  daughters 
was  looking  ovdr  fome  lioods  and  r'bands  brought  by  her 
tirevvoman,  with  great  care  and  diligence,  I  employed  no 
lefs  in  examining  the  box  which  contained  them. 

Guardian,  No.  4. 

The  wrong  fenfe  occafioned  by  this  arrangement, 
may  be  eafily  prevented  by  varying  it  thus : 

This  morning  v/hen,  with  great  care  and  diligence,  one 
ot  Lady  Lizard's  daughters  was  looking  over  lomc  hoods 
and  ribands,  &.C. 

A  great  ftone  that  I  happened  to  find  after  a  long  fearcb 
by  the  fca-fhore,  ferved  me  for  an  anchor. 

Gulliver  s  Travels,  part  I .  chap,  8. 

One  would  think  that  the  fearch  was  confined  to  the 
fea-{hore  ;  but  as  the  meaning  is,  that  the  great  ftone 
was  found  by  the  fea-Iliore,  the  period  ought  to  be 
arranged  thus : 

A  great  floncj  that,  after  a  long  fearch,  I  happened  to 
find  by  the  fea-ihore,  ferved  me  lor  an  anchor. 

Next  of  a  wrong  arrangement  where  the  fenfe  is 
left  doubtful ;  beginning,  as  in  the  former  fort,  with 
examples   of  wrong   arrangement   of  words   in  a 
member : 

Thefe  forms  of  converfation  by  degrees  multiplied  and 
grew  troublefome. 

SpeElator,  No.  119. 

Here  it  is  left  doubtful  whether  the  modification  hy 
degrees  relates  to  the  preceding  member  or  to  what 
follows  :  it  fliould  be, 

Thcfe  forms  of  converfaiicr\  multiplied  by  degrees. 

Noc 


Sect.  II.  Beauty  of  Language,  ^f 

Nor  does  this  falfe  modefty  expofe  us  only  to  Tuch  actions 
as  are  indifcreet,  but  very  ofttn  to  fuch  as  are  highly 
criminal. 

.  Spe^atovy  No.  458. 

The  ambiguity  is  removed  by  the  following  arrange* 
ment : 

Nor  does  this  falfe  modefty  expofe  us  to  fuch  a6lions 
only  as  are  indifcreet,  &c. 

The  empire  of  Blefufcu  is  an  ifland  fituated  to  the  nortli- 
eaft  fide  oi  Li'.liput,  from  whence  it  is  parted  only  by  a  chan- 
nel of  800  yards  wide. 

'  Gul/iver's  Travels,  par/  i.  chap.  5. 

The  ambiguity  may  be  removed  thus : 

from  whence  it  is  parted  by  a  channel  of 


8co  yards  wide  only. 

In  the  following  examples  the  fenfe  is  left  doubt' 
ful  by  wrong  arrangement  of  members. 

The  minifter  who  gfows  lefs  by  his  elevation,  like  a  lit' 
tie Jiatue  placed  on  a  mighty  pcdcjlal,  will  always  have  his 
jealoufy  ilrong  about  him. 

Dijprtaticn  upon  parlies.  Dedication.     BoJingbroke. 

Here,  as  far  as  can  be  gathered  from  the  arrange- 
ment, it  is  doubtful,  whether  the  objeft  introduced  by 
way  of  fmiile,  relate  to  what  goes  before  or  to  whjt 
follows :  the  ambiguity  is  removed  by  the  following 
arrangement : 

THc  minifter,  who,  liice  a  little  ftatue  placed  on  a  mighty 
pedeflal,  grows  Icfs  by  his  elevation,   Vviil  wlways,  £^:c. 


4^  Beauty  of  Language.       Ch.  JVIII, 

Since  this  is  too  much  to  afk  of  freemen,  nay  of  flaves, 
tfhhexpt£iation  he  not  anjvuered,  fliall  he  forma  lading 
di\ifion  upon  fucli  tranfient  motives  ?  Ibid. 

Better  thus : 

Since  this  is  too  much  t6  afk  of  freemen,  nay  of  flaves, 
iliaU  he,  it  his  expectations  be  not  anfwered,  form,  &c. 

Speaking  of  the  fuperflitious   praftlce  of  locking  up 
the  room  where  a  perfon  of  diflinftion  dies. 

The  knight  feeing  his  habitation  reduced  to  fo  fmall  a 
compafs,  and  himfelf  in  a  manner  fhut  out  of  his  own 
houfe,  upon  the  death  of  hh  mother^  ordered  all  the  apart- 
ments to  be  flung  open,  and  exercifed  by  his  chaplain. 

Spectator y  No.  iio. 

Better  thus  : 

The  knight,  feeing  his  habitation  reduced  to  fo  fmall  a 
compafs,  and  himfelf  in  a  manner  Ihut  out  of  his  own 
houfe,  ordered,  upon  the  death  of  his  mother,  all  the 
apartments  to  be  flung  open. 

Speaking  of  fome  indecencies  in  converfation  : 

As  it  is  impoffible  for  fuch  an  irrational  way  of  conver- 
fation to  lait  long  among  a  people  that  make  uny  profef- 
ilon  of  religion,  or  fhow  ot  modefty,  if  the  country  genile- 
vien  get  into  ity  they  will  certainly  be  left  in  the  lurch. 

Spe£latory  No.  119. 

The   ambiguity  vanifhes  in  the  following  arrange- 
ment. 

the  country  gentlemen,  if  they  get  into  it,  will 

certainly  be  left  in  the  lurch. 

Speaking  of  a  difcovery   in   natural   philofophy, 

that  colour  is  not  a  quality  of  matter  : 

As 


Sect.  II.  Beauty  of  Language*  49 

As  this  is  a  truth  which  has  been  proved  inconteftably  by 
many  moden>  philofophers,  and  is  indeed  one  of  the  fineft 
rpeculations  in  that  Icience,  if  the  Englijh  reader  would  fee 
the  notion  explained  at  large,  he  may  find  it  in  the  eighth  chap- 
ter of  the  fecond  book  of  Mr.  Locke's  efTay  on  human  un- 
derftanding. 

Spe£latory  No.  413. 

Better  thus  : 

As  this  Is  a  truth,  &c.  the  Englifli  reader,  if  he  would 
fee  the  notion  explained  at  large,  may  find  it,  Sec. 

A  woman  feldom  afks  advice  before  (he  has  bought  her 
vvedding-cloaths.  When  fhe  has  made  her  own  choice, 
for  form's  fake  (lie  fends  a  conge  d'elire  to  her  friends. 

Ibid^  No.  475. 

Better  thus  : 

■ fhe  fends,  for  form's  fake,  a  conge  d'ellre  to   her 

friends. 

And  fince  it  is  neceiTary  that  there  fhould  be  a  perpetual 
intercourfe  of  buying  and  felling,  and  dealing  upon  credit, 
where  fraud  is  permitted  or  connived  at,  or  hath  no  law  to 
punij}}  ity  the  honefl  dealer  is  always  undone,  and  the  knave 
gets  the  advantage. 

Gulliver  s  Travels,  part  I.  chap.  6. 

Better  thus : 

And  fince  it  is  necefiary  that  there  fliould  be  a  perpetual 
inrcrcourfe  of  buying  and  felling,  and  dealing  upon  credit, 
the  honeft  dealer,  where  fraud  is  permitted  or  connived  at, 
or  hath  no  law  to  punifh  it,  is  always  undone,  and  the 
knave  gets  the  advantage. 

From  thefe  examples,  the  following  obfervation 
will  occur,  that  a  circumftance  ought  never  to  be 
Vol.  II.  D  placed 


tt 


50  Beauty  cf  Language.        Ch.  XVIlL 

placed  between  two  capital  members  of  a  period : 
for  by  fuch  fituation  it  mud  always  be  doubtful,  as 
far  as  we  gather  from  the  arrangement,  to  which  of 
the  two  members  it  belongs  ;  where  it  is  interjefted, 
as  It  ought  to  be,  between  parts  of  the  member  to 
which  it  belongs,  the  ambiguity  is  removed,  and  the 
capital  members  are  kept  dillind,  which  is  a  great 
beauty  in  cqmpofition.  Jin  general,  to  preferve 
'members  didind  that  fignify  things  diilinguifhed  in 
the  thought,  the  bed  method  is,  to  place  firft  in  the 
confequent  member,  fome  word  that  cannot  con- 
nect with  what  precedes  it.  \ 

If  it  lliall  be  thought,  that  the  objections  here  are 
too  fcrupulous,  and  that  the  defedl  of  perfpicuity  is 
eafily  fupplied  by  accurate  punftuation  ;  the  anfwer 
is,  That  punctuation  may  remove  an  ambiguity,  but 
will  never  produce  that  peculiar  beauty  which  is 
perceived  when  the  fenfe  comes  out  clearly  and  dif- 
tin£tly  by  means  of  a  happy  arrangement.  Such 
influence  has  tliis  beauty,  that  by  a  natural  tranfition 
of  perception,  it  is  communicated  to  the  very  found 
of  the  words,  fo  as  in  appearance  to  improve  the  mu- 
fic  of  the  period.  But  as  this  curious  fubjeft  comes 
in  more  properly  afterward,  it  is  fufficient  at  prefent 
to  appeal  to  experience,  that  a  period  fo  arranged  as 
to  bring  out  the  fenfe  clear,  feems  always  more  mu- 
fieal  than  were  the  fenfe  is  left  in  any  degree  doubt- 
ful. 

A  rule  defervedly  occupying  the  fecond  place,  is, 

IJ    /That  words    expreffing   things    connetled    in    the 

^Ythought,  ought  to  be  placed  as  near  together  as  pof- 

/fiblc.  '  This  rule  is  derived  immediately  from  human 

/  nature,  prone  in   every  inltance  to  place  together 

things  in  any  manner  connected  :^  where  things  are 

arranged 

•,  *  Sec  chap.  I. 


Sect.  II.  Beauty  of  Language >  rj 

arranged  according  to  their  connexions,  we  have  a 
fenfe  of  order  ;  otherwife  we  have  a  fenfe  of  difor- 
der,  as  of  things  placed  by  chance  :  and  we  natu- 
rally place  words  in  the  fame  order  in  which  we 
would  place  the  things  they  fignify.  The  bad  effe£t 
of  a  violent  feparation  of  words  or  members  thus  in- 
timately conneded,  will  appear  from  the  following 
examples. 

For  the  Engli{h  are  naturally  fanciful,  and  very  often 
difpofed,  by  that  gloominefs  and  melancholy  of  temper 
■which  is  fo  frequent  in  our  nation,  to  many  wild  notions 
and  vifions,  to  which  others  are  not  fo  liable. 

SpeSiatory  No.  419. 

Here  the  verb  or  affertion  Is,  by  a  pretty  long  cir- 
cumflance,  violently  feparated  from  the  fubjed:  to 
which  it  refers :  this  makes  a  harlh  arrangement ; 
the  lefs  excufable  that  the  fault  is  eafily  prevented  by 
placing  the  circumflance  before  the  verb,  after  the 
following  manner : 

For  the  Englifh  are  naturally  fanciful,  and,  by  that 
gloominefs  and  melancholy  of  temper  which  is  fo  frequent 
in  our  nation,  are  often  difpofed  to  many  wild  notions,  ^c. 

For  as  no  mortal  author,  in  the  ordinary  fate  and  vicifll- 
tude  Qf  things,  knows  to  what  ufe  his  works  may,  fome 
time  or  oliier  be  applied,  &c. 

SpeSlatsr,  No.  85. 

Better  thus  : 

For  as,  in  the  ordinary  fate  and  viclffitude  of  things,  no 
mortal  author  knows  to  what  ufe,  fome  time  or  other,  his 
works  may  be  applied,  &c. 

From  whence  we  may  date  like  wife  the  rival  (hip  of  the 
houfe  of  Fiance,  for  we  may  reckoii^that  of  Valois  and  that 
Dz  of 


52  Beauty  of  Language.        Ch.  XVIII. 

of  Bourbon  as  one  upon  this  occafion,  and  the  houfe  of  Aii- 
Itrla,  tliat  continues  at  this  day,  and  has  olt  cod  fo  much 
blood  and  fo  much  treafure  in  the  courfe  of  it. 

Letters  on  hifLory,  vol.  i .  let.  6.  Bolinghroke, 

It  cannot  be  impertinent  or  ridiculous  therefore  in  fuch 
a  country,  whatever  it  might  be  in  the  Abbot  of  St.  Real's, 
v>'hioh  was  Savoy  I  think  ;  or  in  Peru,  under  the  Incas, 
where  Garcilalfo  de  la  Vega  fays  it  was  lawful  for  none 
but  the  nobility  to  fludy — for  men  of  all  degrees  to  inftruft 
themfelves,  in  thofe  affairs  wherein  they  may  be  adors^ 
or  judges  of  thofe  that  ad,  or  controllers  of  thofe  that 
judge. 

Letters  on  hijioryy  vol.  i .  let.  5.     BoUngbrole. 

If  Scipio,  who  was  naturally  given  to  women,  for  which 
anecdote  we  have,  if  I  miibkc  not,  the  authority  of  Poly- 
bius,  as  well  as  fome  verfes  of  Nevius  prefcrvcd  by  Auius 
Gellius,  had  been  educated  by  Olympias  at  the  court  of 
Philip,  it  is  improbable  that  he  would  have  rcitored  tiie 
beautiful  Spaniard. 

Ibiii.  let.  -7^.    . 

If  any  one  have  a  curiofity  for  more  fpecimens  of 
this  kind,  they  will  be  found  without  number  in  the 
works  of  tlie  fame  author. 

lA  pronoun  which  faves  the  naming  a  perfon  or 
thing  a  fecond  time,  ought  to  be  placed  as  near  as 
pollible  lO  the  name  of  that  perfon  or  thingi  This 
is  a  branch  of  the  foregoing  rule  ;  and  wnh  the 
rcafon  there  given  another  concurs,  viz.  That  if 
other  ideas  intervene,  it  is  difficult  to  recal  the  per- 
fon or  thing  by  reference  : 

If  I  had  leave  to  print  the  Latin  letters  tranfmitted  to  me 
from  foreign  parts,  they  would  fill  a  volume,  and  be  a  full 
defence  againll  all  that  Mr.  Partvivlge,  or  his  accomplices 
of  thic   'rcnugal  ir.quifiiion,  Vv'ill   be   ever  able  10  objcd  j 


Sect.  II.  Beaitty  of  Language.  53 

who,  by  the  way,  are  the   only  enemies    my  predi£lions 
have  ever  met  v.'ith  ;U  home  or  abroad. 

Better  thus  : 

. and  be  a. full  defence  againft  all  that  can  be 

objeded  by  Mr.  Partridge,  or  his  accomplices  of  the  Por- 
tugal inqiiifaion  ;  who,  by  the  way,  are,  &c. 

There  being  a  round  million  of  creatures  in  human  fig- 
ure, throughout  this  kingdom,  ivhofe  whole  fubfiltence,  &c. 

A  tnodejl  propojalyho..     Swift, 

Better : 

There  being  throughout  this  kingdom,  around  million 
of  creatuies  in  hia"nan  figure,  v.'hofe  whole  fubfiltence,  i^fc, 

Tom  is  a  lively  impudent  clown,  and  has  wit  enough  to 
h.ave  made  him  a  pleafant  companion,  had  //been  poiilhed 
and  rectified  by  good  manners. 

Guardian,  No.  162. 

It  is  the  cuftom  of  the  Alaliometans,  if  they  fee  any 
printed  or  written  paper  upon  the'  ground  to  take  it  up, 
and  lay  it  afide  carefully,  as  not  knowing  but  it  may  con- 
tain fome  piece  of  their  Alcoran. 

Spe£Jator,  No.  85. 

The  arrangement  here  leads  to  a  wrong  fenfe,  as  if 
the  ground  were  taken  up,  not  the  paper. Bet- 
ter thus  : 

It  is  the  cuftom  of  the  Mahometans,  if  they  fee  upon  the 
ground  any  printed  or  v\'iitten  paper,  to  take  it  up,  i^V. 

The  following  rule  depends  on  the  cominunlcation 
of  emotions  to  related  objefts  ;  a    principle    in  hu- 
man nature  that  hath  an  exceniivc  operation  :    and 
D3  .  we 


54  Beauty  of  Language,        Ch.  XVIIL 

we  find  this  operation,  even  where  the  objeftsarenot 
otherwife  related  than  by  juxtapofition  of  the  words 
that  exprefs  them.  /Hence,  to  elevate  or  deprefs  an 
^objeft,  one  method  is,  to  join  it  in  the  expreffion  with 
another  that  is  naturally  high  or  loW:  witnefs  the 
following   fpeech  of  Eumencs  to  the  Roman  fenate. 

Caufam  veniendi  fibi  Roman  fuiiTe,  praetcr  cupiditatem 
vifendi  decs  hominejque,  quoium  beneticio  in  ea  tortuna  ef- 
fet,  fupra  quam  ne  optare  quidein  auderet,  etiam  ut  coram 
munerct  fenatum  ut  Perfei  conatus  obviam  iret. 

Z/Vc,  I-  42.  cap.  1 1 . 

To  join  the  Romans  with  the  gods  in  the  fame  enun- 
ciation, is  -cJi  artful  flroke  of  flattery,  becaufe  it  tac- 
itly puts  them  on  a  level.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
degrading  or  vilifying  an  objeft,  is  done  fuccefsful- 
ly  by  ranldng  it  with  one  that  is  really  low  ; 

I  hope  to  have  this  entertainment  in  a  readinefs  for  the 
next  wi'iter  ;  and  doubt  not  but  it  will  pleafe  more  than 
the  opera  or  puppet- Ihow.  Sptttator^  No.  28. 

Manifold  have  been  the  judgments  which  Heaven  from 
t'l  ;  to  time,  for  the  chaftifement  of  a  finful  people,  has 
i.fiicted  upon  whole  nations.  For  when  the  degeneracy 
b.-r(H«t?  co'iimon,  'tis  but  jufl:  the  punilhment  Ihould  be 
general.  Of  this  kind,  in  our  own  unfortunate  country, 
vtaf  that  delhu6tive  peftilence,  whofe  mortality  was  fo  fatal 
^':  to  fwecp  away,  if  Sir  William  Petty  may  be  believed, 
five  Uiiilions  of  ChriiUan  fouls,  befides  women  and  Jews. 
God's   revenge  againji  ■punning.     Arbuthnot. 

Spch  alfa  was  .that  dreadful  conflagration  enfuing  in  this 
fiiUiuus  metropolis  of  Loinion,  which  confumed,  according 
to  tiie  compulation  of  Sir  San\uel  Moreland,  100,000 
houfes,  not  to  mention  churches  and  {tables.  Ibid. 

But  on  condition  it  might  pafs  into  a  law,  I  wotild  glad- 
ly exempt  both    law)'e:s  of  all   ages,   fubaUcrn   and   field 

ol^tcers. 


Sect.  II. 


Beatify  of  Language. 


SS 


officers,  young  heirs,   dancing  mailers,    pickpockets,  and 
|)Iayers. 

An  infallible  fcheme  to  fay  the  public  debts.     Sivift. 

Sooner  let  earth,  air,  fea,  to  chaos  fall, 
Men,  monkeys,  lap-dogs,  parrots,  perilh  all. 

Rape  of  the  Loch. 

Clrcumflances  In  a  period  refemble  finall  (lones  In 
a  building,  employed  to  fill  up  vacuities  among  thofe 
of  a  larger  fize.  In  the  arrangement  of  a  period, 
fuch  under-parts  crowded  together  make  a  poor  fig- 
ure ;  and  never  are  graceful  but  when  Interfperfcd 
among  the  capital  parts.  I  iliuftrate  this  rule  by  ihe 
following  example. 

It  is  likewife  urged,  that  there  are,  by  computation,  in 
this  kingdom,  above  io,oco  parfonr,  whofe  revenues,  added 
to  thofe  of  my  Lords  the  Biihops,  would  fuffice  to  main- 
tain, ^c. 

Argument  againjl  aholifoing  Chrijiianity.      Swift. 

Here  two  clrcumflances,  1^%.  by  coinputaiion  and  in 
this  kingdom^  are  crowded  together  unneceflarily : 
they  make  a  better  appearance  feparated  in  the  fol- 
lowing manner : 

It  is  likewife  urged,  that  in  this  kingdom,  there  arc,  by 
comp\itation,  above  10,000  parfons,  {jfr. 

If  there  be  room  for  a  choice,  )the  fooner  a  clr- 
cumltance  is  introduced,  the  bette^;  becaufe  clr- 
cumflances are  proper  for  that  cooinefs  of  mind, 
with  which  we  begin  a  period  as  well  as  a  volume  : 
in  the  progrefs,  the  mind  warms,  and  has  a  greater 
reliih  for  matters  of  importance.  /When  a  circiim- 
ftance  is  placed  at  the  beginning  of  the  period^  or 
near  the  beginning,  the  tr anfition  from  it  to  the  \x\v^- 
D  4  cipal 


c/a 


5^  Beauty  of  Language.        Ch.  XVIIL 

cipal  fubje61;  is  agreeable  A  it  is  like  afcending,  or 
going  upward.  On  the  other  hand,  to  place  it  late 
in  the  period  has  a  bad  effeft  ;  for  after  being  en- 
gaged in  the  principal  fubje(^,  one  is  with  reluclance 
brought  down  to  give  attention  to  a  circumftance. 
Hence  evidently  the  preference  of  the  following  ar- 
rangement : 

Whether  in  any  country  a  choice  altogether  unexception- 
able has  been  made,  feems  doubtful. 

Before  this  other  : 

Whether  a  choice  altogether  unexceptionable  has  in  any 
country  been  made,  ^c. 

For  this  reafon  the  following  period  is  exceptiona- 
ble in  point  of  arrangement. 

I  have  confidered  formerly,  with  a  good  deal  of  attention, 
the  fubjeft  upon  which  you  command  me  to  communicate 

my  thoughts  to  you. 

Bollngbrokc  of  the  Jludy  of  hijloryy  letter  i. 

which,  with  a  flight  alteration,  may  be  improved 
thus : 

I  have  formerly,  with  a  good  deal  of  attention,  confider- 

ed  the  fubjeft,   ^c. 

Swift  fpeaking  of  a  virtuous  and  learned  educa- 
tion ; 

And  although  they  may  be,  and  too  often  are  drawn,  by 
the  temptations  of  youth,  and  the  opportunities  of  a  large 
fortune,  into  feme  irregularities,  xvhen  they  come  forward  hi- 
to  the  great  worid ;'(\^  is  ever  with  relucUnce  and  compunc- 
tion, of  mind,  becaufe  thdr  bias  to  virtue  itill  continues. 

The  InlelllgeKcer,  No.  9. 
Better : 


jtt. 


Sect.  II.  Beaniy  ofLangua^c*  57 

Better  : 

And  although,  zvhcn  they  come  forward  into  ihe  great 
worldy  they  inay  be,  and  100  often,  ^c. 

The  bad  effect  of  placing  a  circumftance  lafi:  or 
late  in  a  period,  will  appear  from  the  following  ex- 
amples. 

Let  us  endeavour  to  eilablifh  to  ourfelves  an  intereft  in 
him  who  holds  the  reins  of  the  whole  creation  in  his  hand. 

Spe^atcr,   No.  12. 

Better  thus : 

Let  us  endeavour  to  eflablilTi  to  ourfelves  an  interefl  in 
him,  who,  in  his  hand,  holds  the  reins  of  the  vvliole  crea- 
tion. 

Virgil,  who  has  cafi:  the  whole  fyftem  of  Platonic  phi- 
lofophy,  fo  far  as  it  relates  to  the  foul  of  nnan,  into  beauti- 
ful allegories,  /«  the  fixth  book  of  his  Mneidy  gives  us  the 
puniihnient,  1?V. 

SpeSiator,  No.  90. 

Better  thus  : 

Virgil,  who  in  the  fixth  book  of  his  i^^neid,  has  cafi;,  iSc. 

And  Philip  the  Fourth  was  obliged  at  laft  to  conclude  a 
peace  on  terms  repugnant  lo  his  inclination,  to  that  ot  his 
people,  to  the  intcreit  of  Spain,  and  to  that  oi  all  Europe, 
in  the  Pyrenean  treaty. 

Letters  onhtjiory,  vol.  I.  let.  6.     BoUngbroke. 

Better  thus  : 

And  at  laft,  in  the  Pyrenean  treaty,  Philip  the  Fourth 
was  obliged  to  conclude  a  peace,  <Jc. 

In 


5^  Beautj  of  Lanptagc.  Ch.  XVIII. 

In  arranging  a  period,  it  is  of  importance  to  de- 
termine in  what  part  of  it  a  word  makes  the  greateft 
figure  ;  whether  at  the  beginning,  during  the  courfe, 
or  at  the  clofe.  The  breaking  filence  roufes  the  at- 
tention, and  prepares  for  a  deep  imprefllon  at  the  be- 
ginning :  the  beginning,  however,  muft  yield  to  the 
clofe  ;  which  being  fucceeded  by  a  paufe,  affords 
time  for  a  word  to  make  ks  deepell  impreffion.* 
I  I  n  Hence  the  following  rule,  /That  to  give  the  utmoft 
iiM't^A  ^^orce  to  a  period,  it  ought,  if  poffible,  to  be  clofed 
with  that  word  which  makes  the  greateft  figure.'\ 
f/^;(y  The  opportunity  of  a  paufe  fhould  not  be  thrown 
away  upon  acceffories,  but  referved  for  the  princi- 
pal objed,  in  order  that  it  may  make  a  full  impref- 
fion :  which  is  an  additional  reafon  againft  clofing  a 
period  with  a  circumftance.  There  are  however  pe- 
riods that  admit  not  fuch  a  ftrufture  ;  and  in  that 
cafe,  the  capital  word  ought,  ifpofTible,  to  be  placed 
in  the  front,  which  next  to  the  clofe  is  the  moft  ad- 
vantageous for  making  an  impreffion.  Hence,  in 
directing  our  difcourfe  to  a  man  of  figure,  we  ought 
to  begin  with  his  name  ;  and  one  will  be  fenfible  of 
a  degradation,  when  this  rule  is  neglected,  as  it  fre- 
quently is  for  the  fake  of  verfe.  I  give  the  following 
examples. 

Integer  vitae,  fcelerifque  purus, 

Non  eget  Mauri  jaculis,  neqiic  arcu. 
Nee  veiienatis  gravida  fagitlis, 
Fufce,  pharetra, 

Horat.  Carm.  h  i.  ode  22. 

*  To  givp  force  or  elevation  to  a  period,  it  ought  to  begin  and  erd 
with  a  ]oiig  fyllable.  For  a  longfyllabie  makes  naturally  tlie  flronpett 
imprenion  ;  and  ■  f  all  the  fyllables  in  a  period,  we  aie  chiefly  moved 
with  the  fiift  and  lall. 

Demetrius  Pkalcrcus  cfElccution,Jc6l.  39. 


Sect.  II.  Beaidy  of  Language.  59 

Je  crains  Dieu,  cher  Abncr,  et  n'ai  point  d'autre  crainte. 

In  thefe  examples,  the  name  of  the  perfon  addreflbd 
to,  makes  a  mean  figure,  being  hke  a  circumftance 
dipt  into  a  corner.  That  this  criticifm  is  well  found- 
ed, we  need  no  other  proof  than  Addifon's  tranfla- 
tion  of  the  laft  example  : 

O  Abner  !  I  fear  my  God,  and  \  fear  none  but  him. 

Gitqrdiany  No.  117. 

O  father,  what  intends  thy  hand,  flie  cry'd, 
Againft  thy  only  Con  r   What  fury,  O  fen, 
Poiietres  tiiee  to  bend  that  mortal  dart 
Againft  thy  father's  head  ? 

Faradife  lo/Iy  book  i.  1.  ■727. 

Every  one  muft  be  fenfible  of  a  dignity  in  the  invo- 
cation at  the  beginning,  which  is  not  attained  by  that 
in  the  middle.  I  mean  not  however  to  cenfure  this 
paifage :  on  the  contrary,  it  appears  beautiful,  by 
diftinguifhing  the  refpeft  that  is  due  to  a  father  from 
that  which  is  due  to  a  fon. 

The  fubflance  of  what  is  faid  in  this  and  the  fore- 
going feclion,  upon  the  method  of  arranging  words 
in  a  period,  fo  as  to  make  the  deepeft  imprefiloii 
with  refpect  to  found  as  well  as  fignification,  is  com- 
prehended in  the  following  obfervation  :  That  order 
of  words  in  a  period  will  always  be  the  moll  agreea- 
ble, where,  without  obfcuring  the  fenfe,  the  moft:  im- 
portant images,  the  moft  fonorous  words,  and  the 
longeft  members,  bring  up  the  rear. 

Hitherto  of  arranging  fmgle  words,  fmgle  meni^ 
bers,  and  fmgle  circumftances.  But  the  enumera- 
tion of  many  particulars  in  the  fame  period  is  often 
neceflary  :  and  the  queftion  is.  In  wdiat  order  they 

fhould 


6o  Beauty  of  Language.         Ch.  XVIIL 

fhould  be  placed  ?  It  does  not  feem  eafy,  at  firft  view, 
to  biing  a  fubjeO:  apparently  fo  loofe  under  any  gen- 
eral rule  :  but  luckily,  refleding  upoii  what  is  laid 
in  the  firft  chapter  about  order,  we  find  rules  laid 
down  to  our  hand,  which  leave  us  no  tafk  but  that  of 
applying  them  to  the  prefent  queftion.  And,  firft, 
with  refpecl  to  the  enumerating  particulars  of  equal 
rank,  it  is  laid  down  in  the  place  quoted,  that  as  there 
is  no  caufe  for  preferring  any  one  before  the  refl;,  it 
is  indifferent  to  the  mind  in  what  order  they  be 
viewed.  And  it  is  only  neceffary  to  be  added  here, 
that  for  the  fame  reafon,  it  is  indifferent  in  what  or- 
der they  be  named,  sdly,  If  a  number  of  cbjeds 
of  the  fame  kind,  differing  only  in  fize,  are  to  be 
ranged  along  a  ftraight  line,  the  moft  agreeable  or- 
der to  the  eye  is  that  of  an  increafmg  feries.  In 
furveying  a  number  of  fuch  objeds,  beginning  at  the 
leafl,  and  proceeding  to  greater  and  greater,  the  mind 
fwells  gradually  with  the  fucceffive  objecls,  and  in  its 
progrefs  has  a  very  fenfible  pleafure.  Precifely  for 
0  0  y  •i  ^^^^  ^^^^^^  reafon,  (words  expreffive  of  fuch  objeds 
„A\^j!> ought  to  be  placed  in  the  fame' order.)  The  beauty 
of  this  figure,  which  may  be  termed.^  climax  in  fcnfe^ 
T^  .(.  has  efcaped  lord  Bolingbroke  in  the  firfl  member  of 
the  following  period. 

Let  bnt  one  grcri;,  brave,  difinterefled,  a£live  man  arife, 
and  he  will  be  received,  followed,  and  alinoft  adored. 

The  follov/ing  arrangement  has  fenfibly  a  better  effed: 

Let  but  one  brave,  great,  aciive,  difintcrcilcd  nnan  arife. 

Whether  the  fame  rule  ought  to  be  followed  in  enu- 
merating men  of  different  ranks,  feems  doubtful  : 
en  the  one  hand,  a  number  of  perfons  prcfented  to 


Sect.  II.  "Beautj  of  Language.  6t 

the  eye  in  form  of  an  increafing  feries,  Is  undoubt- 
edly the  moil  agreeable  order  il6n  the  other  hand,  4^^^^ 
in  every  lift  of  names,  we  fet  the  perfon  of  the  great-  ^ '^'^j^ 
eft  dignity  at  the  top,  and  defcend  gradually  through  /^  ' 
his  inferiors.  Where  the  purpofe  is  to  honour  the  yH^ 
perfons  named  according  to  their  rank,  the  latter  ^^^-it 
order  ought  to  be  followed  ;  but  every  one  who  re-  'I'J^tff 
gards  himfelf  only,  or  his  reader,  will  choofe  the  ^"^^ 
former  order.     3dly,  As  the  fenfe  of  order  direds  ^ 

the  eye  to  defcend  from  the  principal  to  its  greateft 
acceffory,  and  from  the  whole  to  its  greateft  part, 
and  in  the  fame-order  through  all  the  parts  and  accef- 
fories  till  we  arrive  at  the  minuteft  ;  the  fame  or- 
der ought  to  be  followed  in  the  enumeration  of  fucli 
particulars.  I  fhall  give  one  familiar  example. 
Talking  of  the  parts  of  a  column,  the  bafe,  the 
Ihaft,  the  capital,  thefe  are  capable  of  fix  difterent 
arrangements,  and  the  queftion  is.  Which  is  the 
beft  ?  When  we  have  in  view  the  ereding  a  column, 
we  are  naturally  led  to  exprefs  the  parts  in  the  order 
above  mentioned  j  which  at  the  fame  time  is  agreea- 
ble by  afcending.  But  confidering  the  column  as  it 
ftands,  without  reference  to  its  ertftion  the  fenfe  of 
order,  as  obferved  above,  requires  the  chief  part  to 
be  named  firft  :  for  that  reafon  we  begin  with  the 
Ihaft ;  and  the  bafe  comes  next  in  order,  that  we 
may  afcend  from  it  to  the  capital.  Laftlv,  In  trac- 
ing the  particulars  of  any  natural  operation,/^der 
requires  that  we  follow  the  courfe  of  nature  :  Tiiltor- 
ical  fa6ts  are  related  in  the  order  of  tim3T  we  begin 
at  the  founder  of  a  family,  and  proceed  nom.  him  to 
his  defcendants  :  but  in  defcribing  a  lofty  oak,  we 
begin  with  the  trunk,  and  afcend  to  the  branches. 

yWhen  force  and  livelinefs   of  expreffion   are   de- 
manded, the  rule  is,  to  fufpend  the  thought  as  long , 
as  pofiible,  and  to  bring  it  out  full  and  entire  at  they 


€i  Beaufy  of  Language,         Ch.  XVIIL 

clofe  :  which  cinnot  be  done  but  by  Inverting  the 
natural   arrangeroent.     By   introducing  a  word  or 
member  before   its  time,  curiofity  is  raifed   about 
what  is  to  follow  ;  and  it  is  agreeable    to  have  our 
curiofity    gratified    at  the   clofe   of  the  period  :  the 
pleafure  we  feel  refembles  that  of  feeing  a  flroke  ex- 
erted upon  a  body  by  the   whole   collected  force  of 
the  agent.     On  the  other  hand,  where  a  period  is  fo 
conftruded  as  to  admit  more  than  one  complete  clofe 
in  the  fenfe,  the  curiofity  of  the  reader  is  exhaufled 
at  the  firft  clofe,  and  what   follows  appears  languid 
or  fuperfluous  :  his  difappointment  contributes    alfo 
to    that  appearance,  when   he    finds,     contrary    to 
expedation,    that   the    period   is    not   yet   finilhed. 
Cicero,  and  after   him  Quintilian,  recommend   the 
verb  to  the  laft  place.     This  method  evidently  tends 
to  fufpend  the  fenfe  till  the  clofe  of  the  period  ;  for 
without  the  verb  the  fenfe  cannot  be  complete  :  and 
when   the  verb    happens  to  be   the  capital    word, 
which  it  frequently  is,  it  ought  at  any  rate  to  be  the 
iaft,  according  to  another  rule,  above  laid  down.     I 
proceed  as  ufual  to  illullrate   this  rule  by  examples. 
The  following  period  is  placed  in  its  natural  order. 

Were  inftni<3ion  an  efTential  circumftance  in  epic  poe- 
try, I  doubt  whether  a  Tingle  inllance  conid  be  given  of 
this  fpecies  of  compofition,  in  any  language. 

The  period  thus  arranged  admits  a  full  clofe  upon 
the  word  mnpofition  ;  after  which  it  goes  on  lan- 
guidly, and  clofes  without  force.  This  blemifli  will 
be  avoided  by  the  following  arrangement. 

Were  inftiuclion  an  efiential  circiimftance  in  epic  poe^- 
%ry,  I  doubt  vvheiher,  in  any  language,  a  fingle  inftance 
9puld  be  given  of  this  fpecies  of  compofition. 

Some 


Ch.  XVIII.  Beauty  of  Language,  6-3 

Some  of  our  moft  eminent  divines  have  made  ufe  of  this 
Platonic  notion,  as  far  as  it  regards  the  fubfiftence  of  our 
pallions  after  death,  with  great  beauty  and  ftrength  of 
reafon. 

Spe^afory  No.  90. 

Better  thus  : 

Some  ofour  moft  eminent  divines  have  with  great  beauty 
and  ftrength  of  reafon,  made  ufe  of  this  Platonic  no- 
tion, &c. 

Men  of  the  heft  fenfe  have  been  touched,  more  or  lefs, 
with  thefe  groundlefs  horrors  and  prefages  of  futurity,  upon 
furveying  the  moft  indifferent  works  of  nature. 

SpeSiatory  No.  505. 

Better, 

Upon  furveying  the  moft  indifferent  works  of  nature, 
men  of  the  beft  fenfe,  &:c. 

She  foon  informed  him  of  the  place  he  was  in,  which, 
netwithftanding  all  its  horrors,  appeared  to  him  more  fvveet 
than  the  bower  ot  Mahotnet,  in  the  company  ot  his  Balfora. 

Guardiariy  No.  167. 

Better, 

She  foon,  &c.  appeared  to  him,  in  the  company  of  his 
Balfora,  more  fvveet,  &c. 

The  Emperor  was  fo  intent  on  the  eftablifhment  of  his 
abfolute  power  in  Hungary,  that  he  expofcd  the  Empire 
doubly  to  defolation  and  ruin  for  the  fuke  of  it. 

Letters  on  bijiory,  vol.  i.  let.  7.  Bdir.ghrcke. 
Better, 

that   for  the   fake  of  it  h-e  expofed  the  empire 

doubly  to  defolation  and  ruin. 

None 


64        ^  Beauif  of  Language,        Ch,  XVIII, 

None  of  the  rules  for  the  compofition  of  periods 
are  more  liable  to  be  abufed,  than  thofe  laft  men- 
tioned ;  witneft  many  Latin  writers,  among  the 
moderns  efpeciaily,  whofe  ftyle,  by  inverfions  too 
violent,  is  rendered  harfh  and  obfcure.  /Sufpenfion 
of  the  thought  till  the  clcfe  of  the  period,  ought 
never  to  be  preferred  before  perfpicuity?7^  Neither 
ought  fuch  fufpenfion  to  be  attempted  in  a  long  pe- 
riod ;  becaufe  in  that  cafe  the  mind  is  bewildered 
amidfl  a  profufion  of  words  :  a  traveller,  while  he  is 
puzzled  about  the  road,  relilhes  not  the  fined  prof- 
ped: : 

All  the  rich  prefents  wliich  Aflyages  had  given  him  at 
parting,  keeping  only  feme  Median  horfes,  in  order  to 
propagaie  the  breed  of  them  in  Peilia,  he  diftribnted  among 
his  friends  whom  he  left  ut  the  couit  of  Ecbatana. 

T nil! els  of  Cyrus y  book  r. 

The  foregoing  rules  concern  the,  arrangement  of  a 
fingle  period  :  I  add  one  rule  more  concerning  the 
difhibution  of  a  difcourfe  into  different  periods.  A 
fliort  period  is  lively  and  familiar  :  a  long  period, 
requiring  mere  attention,  makes  an  impreilion  grave 
and  folemn.*/  In  general, /^writer  ought  to  ftudy  a 
mixture  of  long  and  fhort  periods,  which  prevent  an 
irkfonie  uniformity,  and  entertain  the  mind  with  va- 
riety ofimpreiiion|J.In  particular,  long  periods  ought 
to  be  avoided  tillthe  reader's  a'ctention  be  thoroughly 
engaged  ;  and  therefore  a  difcourfe,  efpeciaily  of  the 
familiar  kind,  ought  never  to  be  introduced  with  a 
long  period.  For  that  reason,  the  commencement 
of  a  letter  to  a  very  young  lady  on  her  marriage  is 
faulty : 

Madam, 

*  Demetrius  Phalcrrus  fof  Elociiti.^n,  fcft.  44. '\  obferves,  that  long 
members  in  a  perixl  make  nn  iinpicirion  of  gravity  and  impoitaiicc. 
The  fame  obleivauon  is  applicable  to  peiiods. 


SucT.  II.  Beauty  of  Language.  6^ 

Madam,  The  hurry  and  impertinence  of  receiving  and 
paying  vifits  on  account  of  your  marriage,  being  now  over,; 
you  are  beginning  to  enter  into  a  courfe  of  life,  where  you 
■will  want  much  advice  to  divert  yoti  from  falling  into  many 
errors,  fopperies,  and  follies,  to  which  your  fex  is  fubjed.      / 

•      Swift.      r/' 

See  another  example^  flill  more  faulty,  in  the 
commencement  of  Cicero's  oration,  Pro  Archiapoeta. 

Before   proceeding  farther,  it  may  be   proper  to 
i^eview  the  rules  laid  down  in  this  and  the  preceding 
fe£lion,  in  order  to   make  fome  general  obfervations^ 
That  order  of  the  words  and  members  of  a  period  is 
juftly  termed  natural,  which  correfponds  to  the  nat- 
ural order  of  the  ideas  that  compofe  the  thought. 
The  tendency  of  many  of  the  foregoing  rules  is  to 
fubftitute  an  artificial  arrangement,  in  order  to  catch 
fome  beauty  either  of  found  or  meaning  for  which, 
there  is  no  place  in  the  natural  order.     But  feldom 
it  happens,  that  in  the  fame  period  there  is  plac;^  for 
a  plurality  of  thefe  rules  :  if  one   beiiuty  q^n  l?e  re- 
tained, another  muft  be  relinquiflied  ;  and  the  'only 
quefliion  is.  Which  ought  to  be  preferred  ?    This 
queftion  cannot  be  refolved  by  any  general  rule  :  if 
the   natural    order  be  not  reliflied,  a  few  trials  will 
difcover  that  artificial  order  which  has  thejbeft  ef- 
fect ;  and  this  exercife,  fupported  by  a  good  taile, 
will  in  time  make  the  choice  eafy.     All  that  can  be 
faid  in  general  is,  that  in  making  a  choice,  •found 
ought  to  yield  to  fignification. 

The  tranfpofmg  words  and  members  out  of  their 
natural  order,  fo  remarkable  in  the  learned  lan- 
guages, has  been  the  fubje£t  of  much  fpeculation. 
It  is  agreed  on  all  hands,  that  fuch  tranfpofition  or 
inverfion  bellows  upon  a  period  a  very  fenfible  de- 
gree • 
Vol.  11.  E 


/ 


66  JBeauly  of  La7igud^e.         Ch.  XVIII, 

gree  of  force  and  elevation  ;  and  yet  writers  feem  to 
be  at  a  lofs  how  to  account  for  this  efFedt.    Cerceau* 
afcribes  fo  much  power  to  inverfion,  as  to  make  it 
the  charaderiftic  of  French  verfe,  and  the  fingle  cir- 
cumftance  which  in  that  language  diftinguifhes  verfe 
from  profe  ;  and  yet  he  pretends  not  to  fay,  that  it 
hatli  any  other  efte6l  but  tO:  raife  furprife  ;  he  mufl 
mean  curiofity,  which  is  done  by  fufpending  the 
thought  during  the  period,  and  bringing  it  out  en- 
tire at  the  clofe.     This  indeed  is  one  effect  of  inver- 
.  fion  ;  but  neither  its  fole  eifeft,  nor  even  that  which 
is.  the  moft  remarkable,  as  is   made   evident  above. 
But  waving  cenfure,  which  is  not  an  agreeable  tafk, 
I  enter  into  the  matter  ;  and  begin   with  obferving, 
that  if  conformity  between  words  and  their  meaning 
be  agreeable,  it  muft  of  courfe  be  agreeable  to  find 
the  fame  order  or  arrangement  in  both.     Hence  the 
beauty  of  a  plain  or  natural  ftyle,  where  the  order 
of  the  words  correfponds  precifely  to  the  order  of  the 
idea*..    Nor   is   this   the  fmgle  beauty  of  a  natural 
ftyle  :•  it  is  alfo  <igreeabie  by  its   fimplicity  and  per- 
fpicurty.  /  This   obfervation   throws    light    upon  the 
fubjeft  :  (for  if  a  natural  flyle  be  in  itfelf  agreeable,  a 
/tranlpofed   jftyle    cannot   be    fo  ;    and   therefore  its 
/  agreeablenefs  muft  arife  from  admitting  fome  pofitive 
I  beauty   thjit  is  excluded  in  a  natural   ftyle.     To  be 
;  confirmed  in  this  opinion,  we  need  but  reflect  upon 
fome  of  the  foregoing  rules,  which  make  it  evident, 
',  that  laitguage  by  means  of  inverfion,  is  fufceptible  of 
many  beauties  that  are  totally   excluded  in  a  natural 
;  arrangement  From  thefe  premifes  it  clearly  fol^ 
/    lows,  that^yeriiJii  ought  not  to  be   indulged,   \\n- 
lefs  in  ordef^  reach  fome  beauty  fuperior  to  thofe 
of  a  natural  ftyle.     It  may  with  great  certainty  be 
pronounced,  that  every  inverfion  which  is  not  gov- 
erned 

*  Reflexions  fur  la  pt^tGe  Franfoifc. 


Sect.  III.  Beauty  of  Language,  j^y 

erned  by  this  rule,  will  appear  harfh  and  ftrained, 
and  be  difreliflied  by  every  one  of  talle.  Hence  the 
beauty  of  inverfion  when  happily  condufted  ;  the 
beauty,  not  of  an  end,  but  of  means,  as  furnifliing 
opportunity  for  numberlefs  ornaments  that  find  no 
place  in  a  natural  ftyle  :  hence  the  force,  the  eleva- 
tion, the  harmony,  the  cadence,  of  fome  compofi- 
tions :  hence  the  manifold  beauties  of  the  Greek  and 
Roman  tongues,  of  which  living  languages  afford 
but  faint  imitations.N^ 
•       /^~ 

SECT.      III. 

Beauty  of  Language  from  a  refemblance  between  Sound 
and  Signification, 

lx\  Resemblance   between   the  found  oP7 
certain  words  and  their  fignification,  is  a  beauty  that! 
has  cfcaped  no  critical  writer,  and  yet  is  not  handled  j 
with  accuracy  by  any  of  them.\    They  have  probably  . 
been  of  opinion,  that  a  beauty  fo  obvious  to  the  feel- 
ing, requires  no   explanation.*   This   is  an  error ; 
and  to  avoid  it,  I  mall  give  examples  of  the  various   >, 
refemblances  between  found  and   fignification,  ac- 
companied  with  an  endeavour  to  explain  why  fuch 
refemblances  are  beautiful.     I  begin  with  examples 
where  the  refemblance  between  the  found  and  fignif- 
ication is  the  mofl  entire  ;  and  next  examples  v/here 
the  refemblance  is  lefs  and  lefs  fo. 

rrhere  being   frequently  a  ftrong  refemblance  of 
one  found  to  another,  it  will  not  be  furprifing  to  find 
an  articulate  found  refembling    one  that  is  not  artic- , 
ulate):  thus  the  found  of  a  bow-ftring  is  imitated  by  \ 
tike  words  that  exprefs  it :  \ 

The  firing  let  fly, 

Twang  dpiort  and  jharpy  liketlie  IhriU  fwallow's  cry. 

Od^ey,  xxi.'449. 
E  z  The 


6$  Beauty  of  Language.        Ch.  XVIIL 

The  found  of  felling  trees  in  a  wood  : 

Loud  fofunds  the  ax,  leiloubUng  ftrokes  on  ftrokes, 
On  all  fides  round  the  forell  hurls  her  oaks 
Headlong.     Deep  echoing  groan  the  tiiickets  brown, 
Then  rnjillngy  crackling.,  crajhing^  thunder  do^vn. 

Iliady  xxiii.  144. 

But  when  loud  furges  lafli  the  founding  fhore, 
The  hoarfe  rou^H  verfe  ihould  like  the  torrent  roar. 

Pope's  Efjay  on  Criticijrny  369. 

Dire  Scylla  there  a  fcene  of  horror  fojrms, 
And  here  Charybdis  fills  the  deep  with  ftorms  : 
Wlien  the  tide  ruflies  from  her  rumbling  caves, 
The  roiigh  rock  roars  :    tumultuous  boil  the  waves^. 

Pope. 

(\No  perfon  can  be  at  a  lofs  about  the  caufe  of  this 
beauty  :  it  is  obvioufly  that  of  imitation.^" 
That  there  is  any  other  natural  releniblance  of 
found  to  fignification,  fnuft  not  be  taken  for  granted. 
There  is  no  refemblance  of  found  to  motion,  nor  of 
J  found  to  fentiment.  f  We  are  however  apt  to  be  de- 
\  ceived  by   artful   pronunciatiorJ:  the  fame   palfage 
may  be" pronounced  in  many  different  tones,  elevat- 
ed or  humble,  fweet  or  harfh,  brifli  or  melancholy, 
fo   as   to    accord  with  the   thought  or  fentiment  : 
fuch  concord  muft  be  diflinguiflied  from  that  con- 
cord between  found  and  fenfe,  which  is  perceived  in 
fome  expreflions  independent  of  artful  pronuncia- 
tion :  the  latter  is  the  poet's  work  ;  the  former  muil 
be  attributed  to  the  reader.  /Another  thing  contrib- 
lutes  flill  more  to  the  deceit  ;    in  language,  found 
I  and  fenfe  being  intimately  connected,   the  properties 
I  of  the  one  are  readily   communicated  to  the  other/; 
for  example,  the  quality  of  grandeur,  of  fweetneis, 
or  of  melancholy,  though  belonging  to  the  thought 

folely, 


Sect.  III.  Beaut'j  cf  Language.  69 

folely,  is  transferred  to  the  words,  which  by  that 
means  refemble  in  appearance  the  thought  that  is  ex- 
prefled  by  them.*  I  have  great  reafon  to  recommend 
thefe  obfcrvations  to  the  reader,  confidering  how 
inaccurately  the  prefent  fubjed  is  handled  by  critics : 
not  one  of  them  diflinguilhes  the  natural  refemblance 
of  found  ai)d  fignification,  from  the  artificial  refem- 
blances  now  defcribed  ;  witnefs  Vida  in  particular, 
who  in  a  very  long  pafTage  has  given  very  few  exam- 
ples but  what  are  of  the  latter  kind.f 

That  there  may  be  a  refemblance  of  articulate 
founds  to  fome  that  are  not  articulate,  is  felf-evident ; 
and  that  in  fadt  there  exilt  fuch  refemblances  fuccefs- 
l\illy  employed  by  writers  of  genius,  is  clear  from 
the  foregoing  examples,  and  from  many  others  that 
might  be  given,  But  we  may  fafely  pronounce,  that 
this  natural  refemblance  can  be  carried  no  farther  : 
the  objefts  of  the  different  fenfes,  differ  fo  widely 
from  each  other,  as  to  exclude  any  refemblance  ; 
found  in  particular,  whether  articulate  or  inarticu- 
late, refembles  not  in  any  degree  tafte,  fmell,  nor 
motion  ;  and  as  little  can  it  refemble  any  internal  fen- 
timent,  feeling  or  emotion.  But  mufl  we  then  ad- 
mit, that  nothing  but  found  can  be  imitated  by  found  ? 
Taking  imitation  in  its  proper  fenfe,  as  importing  a 
refemblance  between  two  objeds,  the  proportion 
muff  be  admitted  :  and  yet  in  many  paffages  that  are 
not  defcriptive  of  found,  every  one  mufl  be  fenfible 
of  a  peculiar  concord  between  the  found  of  the 
words  and  their  meaning.  As  there  can  be  no  doubt 
of  the  fad,  what  remains  is  to  inquire  into  its  caufe. 

iRefembling  caufes  may  produce  effeds  that  have 
no   refemblance  j  and   caufes  that   have  no  refera- 
blance 

*  Sec  chap,  2.  part  1.  feft.  5, 
+  Poet.  L.  3.  1.  365. 454, 


^o  Beauty  of  Language.         Ch.  XVIII. 

blan(?e  may  produce  refembling  GffeSis.f  A  magnifi- 
cent building,  for  example,  refembles  not  in  any 
degree  an  heroic  aclion  ;  and  yet  the  emotions  they 
produce,  are  concordant,  and  bear  a  refemblance  ta 
each  other.  We  are  ftill  more  fenfible  of  this  refem- 
blance in  a  fong,  when  the  mufic  is  properly  adapt- 
ed to  the  fentiment :  there  is  no  refemblance  be- 
tween thought  and  found  ;  but  there  is  the  ftrongefl 
refemblance  between  the  emotion  raifed  by  mufic 
tender  and  pathetic,  and  that  raifed  by  the  complaint 
of  an  unfuccefsful  lover.  Applying  this  obfervation 
to  the  prefent  fubjefl:,  it  appears,  that  in  fome  in- 
ftances,  the  found  even  of  a  f  ingle  word  makes  an  im- 
preffion  refembling  that  which  is  made  by  the  thing 
it  lignifies  :  witnefs  the. word  running,  compofed  of 
two  fnort  fyllables ;  and  more  ren^rkably  the  words 
rapidity,  impetuofity,  precipitation.  Brutal  manners 
produce  in  the  fpectator  an  emotion  not  unlike  what 
is  produced  by  a  harfh  and  rough  found  ;  and  hence 
the  beauty  of  the  figurative  expreffion  rugged  man- 
ners. Again,  the  word  little,  being  pronounced  with 
a  very  fmall  aperture  of  the  mouth,  has  a  weak  and 
fahit  found,  which  makes  an  imprefTion  refembling 
that  made  by  a  diminutive  obje61:.  This  refemblance 
of  effects  is  fliil  more  remarkable  where  a  number 
of  words  are  connefted  in  a  period  :  words  pro- 
nounced in  fuccefTion  make  often  a  flrong  impref- 
fion  ;  and  when  this  imprefTion  happens  to  accord 
with  that  made  by  the  fenfe,  v/e  are  fenfible  of  a  com- 
plex emotion,  peculiarly  pleafant  ;  one  proceeding 
from  the  fentiment,  and  one  from  the  melody  or 
found  of  the  words.  But  the  chief  pleafure  proceeds 
from  having  thefe  two  concordant  emotions  combin- 
ed in  perfed  harmony,  and  carried  on  in  the  mind 
to  a  full  ciofe  :*  I  Except  in  the  fmgle  cafe  where 
I  found 

*  See  chap.  2.  part  4. 


/- 


Sect.  Ill,  Beauty  of  Language.  yi 

found  is  defcrlbed,  all  the  examples  given  by  ciitics  / 
of  fenfe  being   imitated   in  found,  refolve  into  a  re-  ' 
femblanee  of  effe<51:s|t  emotions  raifed  by  found  and./ 
fignification  may  have  a  refemblance  ;  but  found  it- 
felf  cannot   hav^   a   refemblance  to   any  thing  but 
found. 

Proceeding  now  to  particulars,  and  beginning  with 
thofe  cafes  where  the  emotions  have  the  ftrongell 
refemblance,  I  obferve,  firit,/rhat  by   a  number  of  i 
fyllables  in  fucceflion,'an  emotion  is  fometimes  raif-f 
ed  extremely  fmiilar  to  that  raifed  by  fucceffive  mo- 1 
tion  ;  fwhich  may   be   evident  even  to  thofe  who  are 
defettive  in  tafte,  from  the  following  fa6t,  that   the 
term  movement  in  all  languages  is  equally  applied  to 
both.    |In   this  manner,   fucceffive  motiomlfuch  as     / 
walking,   running,    galloping,  /;an  be  imitated  by 
a    fucceffion    of    long    or   fhoi-t  fyllables,  or  by  a    / 
due  mixture  of  both.J  For  example,  flow  motion 
may  be  juftly   imitated  in  a  verfe  where  long  fylla- 
bles prevail ;  efpecially  when  aided  by  a  flow  pro- 
nunciation. 

> 

llli  inter  fefe  magna  vi  brachia  tollunt. 

Georg.  iv.  174, 

(On  the  other  hand,  fwiit   motion  is  imitated  by 
a  fucceflTion  of  fliort  fyllables  :l 

Quadrupedanteputrem  fonitu  quaut  ungula  campum. 

Again  :        • 

Radit  iter  liquidum,  c^leres  neque  commovet  ala?. 

\  Thirdly,  A  line  compofed  of  monofyllables,  make;? 
an  impreffion,  by  the  frequency  of  its   paufes,  fimi- 
lai  to  what  is  made  by  laborious  interrupted  motion;  I 
E4      '  Wiih      ' 


yi  Biaufy  of  Language.         6h.  XVIII. 

With  many  a  weary  llep,  and  many  a  grban, 
Up  the  high  hill  he  heaves  a  huge  round  ftone. 

•       Odjrfj,  xi.  736. 

Firft  march  the  heavy  mules  fecurely  flow  ; 
O'er  hiils,  o'er  dales,  o'er  craggs,  o'er  rocks  they  fo. 

Iliad,  xxiii.   13B. 

/  Fourthly,  The  impreffion  made  by  rough  founds 
m  fuccefTion,  refembles  that  made  by  rough  or  tu- 
multuous motion  :  on  the  other  hand,  the  impiefr 
fion  of  fniooth  founds  refembles  that  of  gentle  mo- 
tion.    The  following  is  an  example  of  both.  1 

Tvyo  craggy  rocks  proje£ling  to  the  main, 
The  roaring  wind's  tempeituous  rage  reftrain  ; 
Wkhin,  the  waves  in  fofter  murrnurs  glide, > 
Ana  ihips  fcciire  without  their  haulfers  ride. 

Odyjfey,  iii.  1 1 8. 

Another  example  of  the  latter  : 

Soft  is  the  ftrain  when  Zephyr  gently  blows. 
And  the  faiooth  (tream  in  fmoother  numbers  flows. 

Ejfay  on  Crit.  366. 

V  Fifthly,  Prolonged  motion  is  expreffed  in  an  Alex- 
anarine  line.  >  The  firft  example  fhall  be  of  flow 
motion  prolonged. 

A  needlefs  Alexandrine  ends  the  fong  ; 
That  like  a  wounded  fnake,  drags  its  flow  length  along. 

Effay  on  Crit.  356. 

The  next  example  is  of  forcible  motion  prolonged  : 

The  waves   behind  impel  the  waves  before, 
Wide-rolling,  foaming  high,  and  tumbling  to  the  (hore. 

Iliad,  xiii.  1004. 

The  lafl:  fhall  be  of  rapid  motion  prolonged  : 

Not  fo  when  fvvift  Camilla  fcours  the  plain, 
Flies  o'er  th'unbending  corn,  and  flcims  along  the  main, 

EjTay  en  Crit.  373. 
Again 


I 


Sect.  III.  Bemdy  of  Language.  73 

Again  fpeaking  of  a  rock  torn  from  the  brow  of  a 
jnountain  : 

Still  gath'ring  force,  it  Imokes,  and  urg'd  amain, 
Whirls,  leaps,  and  thunders  down,  impetuous  to  the  plain. 

Il'iady  xiii.  197. 

t,SixthIy,  a  period  confiding  moftly  of  long  fylla- 
bles,  that  is,  of  fyllables  pronounced  flow,  prodiiceth 
an  emotion  refembling  faintly  that  which  is  pro- 
duced by  gravity  and  folemnity.l  Hence  the  beauty 
of  the  following  verfe  : 

Olli  fedato  refpondit  corde  Latinus. 

It  refembles  equally  an  objeft  that  is  infipid  and  ur^- 
interefting. 

Tasdet  quotidianarum  harujn  formarunl. 

Terence y  Eunuchus,  aSi  2.fc.  3. 

(^Seventhly,  A  flow  fucceflion  of  ideas  is  a  circum- 
ftance  that  belongs  equally  to  fettled  melancholy, 
and  to  a  period  compofed  of  polyfyllables  pronounc- 
ied  flow  :  and  hence  by  fmiilarity  of  emotions,  the 
latter  is  imitative  of  the  former  : ) 

In  thofe  deep  folitudes,  and   awful  cells, 
Where  heav'dy'penfive  Contemplation  dwells, 
And  ever  mufing  melancholy  reigns. 

Popey  Eloifa  to  Abelard. 

^Eighthly,  A  long  fyllable  made  fiiort,  or  a  fnort 
Tyllable  made  long,  raifes,  by  the  difficulty  of  pro^ 
tiouncing  contrary  to  cuftom,  a  feeling  fimilar  to 
that  of  hard  labour/: 

When  Ajax  drives  fome  rock's  vaft  weight  to  throw. 
The  line  too  labours,  and  the  words  move  flow. 

EjJ'ay  on  Crit.  370. 

(Ninthly,  Harfli  or  rough  words  pronounced  with 
difficulty,  excite  a  feeling  fimilar  to  that  which  pro- 
ceeds from  the  labour  of  thought  to  a  dull  writer  :\ 

Jua   ^ 


74  Beauty  of  Lan^iage,  Ch.  X VIIL 

Juft  writes  fo  make  his  barrennefs  appear, 
And  (trains  from  hard-boimd  brains  eight  lines  a-year. 
Popii  epijlle  to  Dr.  Arbuthnot,  1.  i8l. 

I  fhall  clofe  with  one  example  more,  which  of  all 

makes  the  fined  figure.     In  the  firft  fedion  mention 

is  made  of  a  cHmax  in  found  ;  and  in  the  fecon'^, 

of  a  chmax  in  fenfe^     '  It  belongs  to  the  prefent  fub- 

jecl  to  obferve,  that  when    thefe  ^coincide    in  the 

(i^  ^yl^ame   paflage,  the  concordance   of  found  and  fenfe 

>  ^  v^delightfuff :  the  reader  is   confcious  not   only   of 

rjAj^^MLi^^J^^^^"^^  frcrm  the  two  climaxes  feparately,  but  of  an 

-V^f°^'^^^^    additional  pleafure  from  their  concordance,  and  from 

finding  the  fenfe  fo  juftly  imitated  by  the  found.    In 

this  refped,  no  periods  are  more  perfe£t  than  thofe 

borrowed  from  Cicero  in  the  firft  fedion. 

JThe  concord  between  fenfe  and  found  is  no  lefs 
agreeable  in  what  may  be  termed  an  anticlimax, 
where  the  progrefs  is  from  great  to  little\;  for  this 
has  the  effeft  to  make  diminutive  objeds  afppear  flill 
more  diminutive,  t/ Horace  affords  a  flriking  ex-- 
ample.  ^ 

Parturiunt  mWes,  nafcetur  ridiculus  mus. 

The  arrangement  here  is  fingulariy  artful :  the 
firil  place  is  occupied  by  the  verb,  which  is  the  cap- 
ital word  by  its  fenfe  as  well  as  found  :  the  clofe  is 
referved  for  the  word  that  is  the  meaneft  in  fenfe/as 
well  as  in  found.  And  it  mufl  not  be  overlooked, 
that  the  refembling  founds  of  the  two  lad  fyllables 
give  a  ludicrous  air  to  the  whole* 

Reviewing  the  foregoing  examples,/it  appearsjto 
me,  contrary  to  expedation,  that/in  pamng  from  the 
ftiongefl  refemblances  to  thofe  that  are  fainter,  eve- 
ry flep  affords  additional  pleafure.  I  Renewing  t^^e 
experiment  again  and  again,  I  feel  no  wavering,  but 
.-the  greatefl  pleafure  conflantly  from  the  faintefl  re^ 

femblances. 


Sect.  Ill,  Beauty  of  Language,  75 

femblances.  c  And  yet  how  can  this  be  ?  for  if  the 
pleafure  lie  in  imitation,  muft  not  the  ftrongeft  re- 
lemblance  afford  the  greateft  pleafure  ?  From  this 
vexing  dilemma  I  am  happily  relieved,  by  reflecting 
on  a  doftrine  eftablifhed  in  the  chapter  of  refem- 
blance  and  contrail,  that/the  pleafure  of  refemblance  I 
13  the  greateft,  where  it  is  leaft  expeded,  and  where  I 
the  objeds  compared  are  in  their  capital  circura- 
ftances  widely  different  J  °  Nor  will  this  appear  fur-  ( 
prifing,  when  we  defcend  to  familiar  examples,  j?  It 
raifeth  no  degree  of  wonder  to  find  the  mofi:  perfect 
refemblance  between  two  eggs  of  the  fame  bird  :  it 
is  more  rare  to  find  fuch  refemblance  between  two 
human  faces  ;  and  upon  that  account  fuch  an  ap- 
pearance raifes  fome  degree  of  wonder  :  but  this 
emotion  rifes  to  a  ftill  greater  height,  when  we  find 
in  a  pebble,  an  agate,  or  other  natural  produftion, 
\  any  refemblance  to  a  tree  or  to  any  organifed  body. 
We  cannot  hefitate  a  moment,  in  applying  thefe  ob- 
'  fervations  to  the  prefent  fubjecl :  what  occafion  of 
wonder  can  it  be  to  find  one  found  refembiing 
another,  where  both  are  of  the  fame  kind  ?  It  is  not 
fo  common  ta  find  a  refemblance  between  an  articu- 
'  late  found  and  one  not  articulate  ;  which  accordingly 
affords  fome  flight  pleafure.  But  the  pleafure  fwells 
greatly,  when  we  employ  found  to  imitate  things  it 
refembles  not  otherwife  than  by  the  eftects  produced 
in  the  mind. 

I  have  had  occafion  to  obferve,  that  to  complete 
the  refemblance  between  found  and  fcnfe,  artful  pro-  ;  i^. 
nunciation  contributes  not  a  little.  Pronunciation 
therefore  may  be  confidered  as  a  branah  of  the  pres- 
ent fubjeft  ;  and  with  fome  obfcrvations  upon  it  the 
fedlion  fhall  be  concluded. 

In  order  Ao  give  a  jufl  idea  of  pronunciation,  it  j 
«nuft  be  diftinguiflied  from  finging.  The  latter  is  car- 1 

ried     I 


7^  Beauty  of  Language.         Ch.  XVIIJ, 

iried  on  by  notes,  requiring  each  of  them  a  different 
/aperture  of  the  windpipe  :   the  notes  properly  belong- 
'  ing  to  the  former,  are  expreffed  by  different  aper- 
I  tures  of  the  mouth,  without  varying  the  aperture  of 
the  windpipe.     This  however  doth  not   hinder  pro- 
nunciation to  borrow  from,  fmging,  as  one  fome- 
times  i^  naturally  led  to  do,  in  expreff^^g  a  vehement 
paffion. 

In  reading,  as  in  finging,  therd  is  a  key-note  : 
above  this  note  the  voice  is  frequently  elevated,  to 
make  the  found  correfpond  to  the  elevation  of  the 
fubjeft  :  but  the  mind  in  an  elevated  (late,  is  difpofed 
t;o  action  ;  therefore,  in  order  to  a  red,  it  mud  be 
brought  dawn  to.  the  key-note.  Hence  the  term 
cadence. 

The  only  general  rule  that  can  be  given  for  dire£l- 
ing  the  pronunciation,  is,  ITo  found  the  words  in 
fuch  a  manner  as  to  imitate  the  things   they   fignify.  9 
In  pronouncing  words  fignifying  what  is  elevated,^ 
the  voice  ought  to  be  raifed  above  its  ordinary  tone  ; 
a;nd  words  fignifying  dejedion  of  mind,  ought  to  be 
pronounced  in  a  low  note.     To  imitate  a  ftern  and 
impetuous  paffion,  the  words  ought  to  be  pronounc- 
ed rough  and  loud  ;  a  fweet  and  kindly  paffion,  on 
the  contrary,  ought  to  be  imitated  by  a  foft  and  me- 
iodious  tone  of  voice  ;  in  Dryden's   ode  of  Alcxan- 
d^r's  feaji,  the  line  Fabiy  fain,  fain,  fain,  rcprefents 
a  gradual  fmking  of  the  mind  ;  and  therefore  is  pro- 
V    nounced  with  a  falling  voice  by  every  one  of  tafte, 
^/without  inflrudion.  fin  general,  words  that  make 
/  the  greateff  figure  ought  to  be  marked  with  a  pecu- 
I  liar  emphafis.  I   Another  circumftance  contributes  to 
/  the  refemblance  between  fenfe  and  found,  which  is 
/  ilow  or  quick  pronunciation  :  for  though  the  length  ' 
/  cr  fliortncis   of  the  fyilables   with  relation  to  each 
/  Qther,  be  in  profe  afcertained  in  forae  meafure,  an|j 
'  in 


Sect.  III.  Beauty  of  Language  ^7 

in  verfe  accurately  ;  yet,  taking  a  whole  line  oi-  pe- 
riod together,  it  may  be  pronounced  flow  or  fait.  /A 
period  accordingly  ought  to  be  pronounced  flow, 
when  it  expreflTeS  what  is  folemn  or  deliberate^  and 
ovight  to  be  pronounted  quick,  when  it  expreile^ ' 
what  is  brilk,  lively,  or  impetuous.  /  / 

The  art  of  pronouncing  with  propriety  and  grace, 
being  intended  to  make  the  found  an  echo  to  the 
fenfe,  fcarce  admits  of  any  other  general  rule  than 
that  above  mentioned.  It  may  indeed  be  branched 
out  irito  many  particular  rules  and  obfervations ,; 
but  without  m.uch  fuccefs  ;  becaufe  no  language 
furniflieth  words  to  fignify  the  dilFerent  degrees  oi 
high  and  low,  loud  and  foft,  faft  and  flow.  Before 
thefe  differences  can  be  made  the  fubjeft  of  regular 
inilru6lion,  notes  mufl  be  invented,  refembling  thofe 
employed  in  mufic.  We  have  reafon  to  believe,  that 
in  Greece  every  tragedy  was  accompanied  with  fuch 
notes,  in  order  to  afcertain  the  pronunciation  ;  but 
the  moderns  hitherto  have  not  thought  of  this  refine- 
ment. Cicero  indeed,*  without  the  help  of  notes, 
pretends  to  give  rules  for  afcertaining  the  various 
tones  of  voice  that  are  proper  in  exprefllng  the  dif- 
ferent pafiions ;  an>J  it  muft  be  acknowledged,  that 
in  this  atttempt  he  hath  exhaufl:ed  the  whole  power 
of  language.  At  the  fame  time,  every  perfon  of 
difcernment  will  perceive,  that  thefe  rules  avail  little 
in  point  of  inftruftion  :  the  very  words  he  employs, 
are  not  intelligible,  except  to  thofe  who  beforehand  {C^^^**'f^ 
are  acquainted  with  the  fubjed:.  io^^u^jt^y^^ 

To  vary  the  fcene  a  little,  I  propofe  to  clofe  with  ^\^  ^^ 
a  flight  comparifon,  between  fmging  and  pronounc-    \/^^.-.-^ 
ing.     In  this  comparifon,  the  five  following  circum- 
ftances  relative  to  articulate  found,  mufl:  be  kept  i;i 
view.   /  sfl:,  A  found  or  fy liable  is  harfli  or  fmooth./ 

/  S'i* 

4  *  De  oratorc,  I.  3.  cap.  j8. 


i^iuC'  mf 


78  Beauty  of  Language.  Ch.  XVIII. 

2d,  It  is  long  or  fhort.  3d,  It  is  pronounced  high 
or  low.  4th,  It  is  pronounced  loud  or  foft.  And, 
laflly,  a  number  of  words  in  fucceffion,  con- 
llituting  a  period  or  member  of  a  period,  are 
pronounced  flow  or  quick.  Of  thefe  five  the 
iirfl  depending  on  the  component  letters,  and  the 
fecond  being  afcertained  by  cuftom,  admit  not  any 
variety  in  pronouncing.  The  three  lad  are  ar- 
bitrary, depending  on  the  will  of  the  perfon  who 
pronounces  j  and  it  is  chiefly  in  the  artful  manage- 
ment of  thefe  that  juft  pronunciation  condlls.j  With 
jpefped:  to  the  firft  circumftance,  mufic  has  evidently 
the  advantage  ;  for  all  its  notes  are  agreeable  to  the 
ear  ;  which  is  not  always  the  cafe  of  articulate  founds. 
With  refpe(^  to  the  fecond,  long  and  fhort  fyllables 
varioufly  combined,  produce  a  great  variety  of  feet  ; 
yet  far  inferior  to  the  variety  that  is  found  in  the 
multiplied  combinations  of  mufical  notes.  With 
refpeft  to  high  and  low  notes,  pronunciation  is  ilill 
more  inferior  to  fmging  ;  for  it  is  obferved  by  Di- 
onyfuis  of  Halicarnalfus,*  that  in  pronouncing, 
/.  e.  without  altering  the  aperture  of  the  wind- 
pipe, the  voice  is  confined  within  three  notes 
and  a  half :  fmging  has  a  much  greater  compafs. 
With  refpeft  to  the  two  laft  circumftances,  pronun- 
ciation equals  fmging. 

In  this  chapter  I  have  mentioned  none  of  the 
beauties  of  language  but  what  arife  from  words  tak- 
en in  their  proper  fenfe.  Beauties  that  depend  on 
the  metaphorical  and  figurative  power  of  words,  are 
referved  to  be  treated  chap.  20. 

SECT. 

*  Dc  ftiuflura  orationis,  feci.  9.. 


B£CT*IV«  Bemtty  of  Langmge.  79 


SECT;      IV. 

Verfification. 


Ti 


HE  mufic  of  verfe,  though  handled  by  ev- 
ery grammarian,  merits  more  attention  than  it  has 
been  honoured  with.  It  is  a  fubjeft  intimately  con- 
liecled  with  human  nature  ;  and  to  explain  it  thor- 
oughly, feveral  nice  and  delicate  feelings  mufl  be 
employed.  But  before  entering  upon  it,  we  mufl 
fee  what  verfe  is,  or,  in  other  words,  by  what  mark 
it  is  diltinguifhed  from  profe  j  a  point  not  fo  eafy  as 
may  at  firft  be  apprehended.  It  is  true,  that  the 
conftrudion  of  verfe  is  governed  by  precife  rules  ; 
whereas  profe  is  more  loofe,  and  fcarce  fubjefted  to 
any  rules.  But  are  the  many  who  have  no  rules, 
left  without  means  to  make  the  diftindion  ?  and  even 
with  refpedt  to  the  learned,  mufl  they  apply  the  rule 
before  they  can  with  certainty  pronounce  whether  the 
compofition  be  profe  or  verfe  ?  This  will  hardly  be 
maintained  ;  and  therefore  inftead  of  rules,  the  ear 
mufl  be  appealed  to  as  the  proper  judge.  But  by  v/hat 
mark  does  the  ear  diflinguifh  verfe  from  profe  ?  The 
proper  and  fatisfadory  anfwcr  is.  That  thefe  make 
different  imprefTions  upon  every  one  ^^  ho  hath  an 
ear.     This  advances  us  one  flep  in  our  inquiry. 

Taking  it  then  for  granted,  that  verfe  and  profe 
make  upon  the  ear  different  i-mpreffions :  nothing 
remains  but  to  explain  this  difference  and  to  afTign 
its  caufe./  To  this  end,  I  call  to  my  aid,  an  obferva- 
tion  made  above  upon  the  found  of  words,  that  they 
are  more  agreeable  to  the  ear  when  compofed  of 
long  and  fhort  fyllables,  than  when  all  the  fyllables 
are  of  the  fame  fort :  a  continued  found  in  the  fame 

tone, 


pc  Beauty  of  Language,        Cif.  XVIII, 

tone,  makes  not  a  mufical  impreffion :  the  fame  note 
fucceilively  renewed  by  intervals,  is  more  agreeable  ; 
but  flill  makes  not  a  mufical  impreiiion.  To  pro- 
duce that  impreflion,  variety  is  neceifary  as  well  as 
number  :  the  fucceflive  founds  or  fyllables,  mud  be 
fome  of  them  long,  fome  of  them  fhort ;  and  if  alfo 
high  and  low,  the  mufic  is  the  more  perfect.  The 
mufical  impreffion  made  by  a  period  confifting  of 
long  and  fhort  fyllables  arranged  in  a  certain  order, 
is  what  the  Greeks  call  rbythmus,  the  Latins  nuinerus, 
and  we  melody  or  mcafiu'c,  Cicero  jufiily  obferves, 
that  iri  one  continued  found  there  is  no  melody : 
"  Numerus  in  continuatione  nullus  eft."  But  in  what 
follows  he  is  wide  of  the  truth,  if  by  numerus  he 
means  melody  or  mufical  meafure  :  "  Diitindio,  et 
sequalium  et  faspe  variorum  in  tervalloriim  percufTio, 
numerum  conficit ;  quern  in  cadentibus  guttis,  quod 
intervallis  diftinguuntur,  notare  pofiumus."  Falling 
drops,  whether  with  equal  or  unequal  intervals,  are 
certainly  not  mufic  :  yve  are  not  fenfible  of  a  mufic- 
al impreffion  but  in  a  fuccefhon  of  long  and  fliort 
notes.  And  this  alfo  was  probably  the  opinion  -of 
the  author  cited,  though  his  expreflion  be  a  little 
unguarded.  * 

It  will  probably  occur,  that  melody,  if  it  depend 
on  long  and  fhort  fyllables  combined  in  a  fentence, 
may  be  found  in  profe  as  well  as  in  verfe  ;  confider- 
ing  efpecially,  that  in  both,  particular  words  are  ac- 
cented or  pronounced  in  a  higher  tone  than  the  reft ', 
and  therefore  that  verfe  cannot  be  diftinguifhed  from 
profe  by  melody  merely.     The  obfervation  is  juft  j 

and 

*  From  this  pafTage,  however,  we  difcover  flie  etymology  of  the  Latin 
term  for  mufical  imprenion.  Every  orte  being  fenfible  that  there  is  no 
mufic  in  a  continued  found  ;  the  firR:  inquiries  were  probably  carried  no 
f  irther  than  to  dlfiover,  that  to  produce  a  mufical  impreflion  a  number 
of  founds  is  necefl'aiy  ;  and  mufical  impreffion  obtained  the  name  of  r.ii' 
merus,  before  it  was  clearly  afcertaincd,  that  variety  is  neccffary  as  wcH 
as  number. 


Sect.  IV.  Beauty  of  Language,  Si 

and  it  follows,  that  the  diftindlon  between  them,  fince 
it  depends  not  fingly  on  melody,  muft  arife  from  the 
difference  of  the  melody :  which  is  precifely  the 
cafe  5  though  that  difference  cannot  with  any  accu- 
racy be  explained  in  wofds ;  all  that  can  be  faid  is, 
that  verfe  is  more  mufical  than  profe,  and  its  melody 
more  perfedl.  The  difference  between  verfe  and 
profe,  refembles  the  difference,  in  mufic  properly  fo 
called,  between  the  fong  and  the  recitative  :  and  the 
refemblance  is  not  the  lead  complete,  that  thefe  differ- 
ences, like  the  ihades  of  colours,  approximate  fome- 
times  fo  nearly  as  fcarce  to  be  difcernible  :  the  melo- 
dy x)f  a  recitative  approaches  fometimes  to  that  of  a 
fong  :  which,  on  the  other  hand,  degenerates  fome- 
times to  that  of  a  recitative.  .  Nothing  is  more  dif- 
tinguifliable  from  profe,  than  the  bulk  of  Virgil's 
Hexameters  :  many  of  thofe  compofed  by  Horace, 
are  very  little  removed  from  profe  :  Sapphic  veife 
has  a  very  fenfible  melody  :  that,  on  the  other  hand, 
of  an  Iambic,  is  extremely  faint.* 

This  more  perfect  melody  of  :irticulate  founds,  is 
what  diftinguiflieth  verfe  from  profe.  Verfe  is  liib- 
jeded  to  certain  inflexible  laws  ;  the  number  and 
variety  of  the  component  fyllables  being  afcertairted, 
and  in  fome  meafure  the  order  of  fuccefiion.  Such 
reftraint  makes  it  a  matter  of  difficulty  to  compofe  in 
verfe  ;  a  difficulty  that  is  not  to  be  furmounted  but 
by  a  peculiar  genius.  Ufeful  Iclfons  conveyed  to  us 
in  verfe,  are  agreeable  by  the  union  of  mufic  with  in- 
ftrudion  :  but  are  we  for  that  reafon  to  reje6l  knowl- 
edge ofiered  in  a  plainer  drefs  ?  That  would  be  ri- 
diculous : 

*Mnfic,  properly  fo  called,  is  analyfcd  into  melody  and  harmony.  A 
fnccclfion  of  fovinds  fo  as  to  be  agreeable  to  the  ear,  contlitiites  melody  : 
harmony  arifes  from  co-cxifting  founds,  Veifc  therefore  can  only  reach 
melody,  and  not  harmony. 

Vol.  IL  F 


S2 


Beauty  of  La7igua^e,         Ch.  XVIIL 


diciilous  ;  for  knowledge  is  of  intrinfic  merit,  inde- 
pendent of  the  means  of  acquifition  ;  and  there  arc 
many,  not  lefs  capable  than  willing  to  inftrud  us, 
who  have  no  genius  for  verfe.  Hence  the  ufe  of 
profe  ;  which,  for  the  reafon  now  given,  is  not  con- 
lined  to  precife  rules.  There  belongs  to  it,  a  cer- 
tain melody  of  an  inferior  kind,  which  ought  to  be 
the  aim  of  every  writer  ;  but  for  fucceeding  in  it, 
practice  is  necelTary  more  than  genius.  Nor  do  we 
rigidly  infill  for  melodious  profe  :  provided  the  work 
convey  inftruclion,  its  chief  end,  we  are  the  lefs  fo- 
licitous  about  its  drefs. 

Having  afcertained  the  nature  and  limits  of  our 
fubjecl,  1  proceed  to  the  laws  by  which  it  is  regulat- 
ed. Thele  would  be  endlefs,  were  verfe  of  all  diifer- 
ent  kinds  to,  be  taken  under  confideration.  I  propofe 
therefore  to,  confine  the  inquiry,  to  Latin  or  Greek 

exameter,  and  to  French  and  Englifli  Heroic  verfe  ; 
which  perhaps  may  carry  me  farther  than  the  reader 
will  choofe  to  follow. 'j  The  obfervations  I  Ihall 
have  occafion  to  make,  will  at  any  rate  be  fufficient 
for  a  fpecimen  ;  and  thele,  with  proper  variations, 
may  eafily  be  transferred  to  the  compofition  of  other 
forts  of  verfe. 

Before  I  enter  upon  particukws,  it  muft  be  premif- 
ed  in  general,  that  to  verfe  of  every  kind,  five  things 
are  of  importance,  ill,  The  number  of  fyllables 
hat  compofe  a  verfe  line.  2d,  The  different  lengths 
of  fyllables,  /.  e.  the  difference  of  time  taken  in  pro- 
nouncing. 3d,  The  arrangement  of  thefe  fyllables 
combined  in  words.  4th,  The  paufes  or  ftops  in 
pronouncing.  .  5th,  The  pronouncing  fyllables  in  a 
high  or  a  low  tone.  The  three  firft  mentioned  are 
ob\'ioufly  effential  to  verfe  :  if  any  of  them  be  want- 
ing, there  cannot  be  that  higher  degree  of  melody 
which  diflinguilheth  verfe  from  profe.     To  give  a 

juft 


$ECT.  IV.  Beauty  ofhangiiag^. 


83 


juft  notion  of  the  fourth,  It  muft  be.obferved,  that 
paufes  are  necelfary  for  three  different  purpofes  : 
one,  to  feparate  periods,  and  members  of  the  fame 
period,  according  to  the  fenfe  ;  another,  to  improve 
the  melody  of  verfe  \  and  the  lall,  to  afford  oppor- 
tunity for  drawing  breath  in  reading.  A  paufe  of 
the  firft  kind  is  variable,  being  long  or  fhort,  fre- 
quent or  lefs  frequent,  as  the  fenfe  requires.  A 
paufe  of  the  fecond  kind,  being  determined  by  the 
melody,  is  in  no  degree  arbitrary.  The  lait  fort  is 
in  a  meafure  arbitrary,  depending  on  the  reader's 
command  of  breath.  But  as  one  cannot  read  with 
grace,  unlefs,  for  drawing  breath,  opportunity  be 
taken  of  a  paufe  in  the  fenfe  or  in  the  melody,  this 
paufe  ought  never  to  be  diftinguifiied  from  the  others  ; 
•and  for  that  reafon  fhall  be  laid  afide.  With  refpe'6t 
then  to  the  paufes  of  fenfe  and  of  melody,  it  may  be 
affirmed  without  hefitation,  that  their  coincidence  in 
verfe  is  a  capital  beauty  :  but  as  It  cannot  be  expell- 
ed, in  a  long  work  efpecially,  that  every  line  fnould 
be  fo  perfeft  ;  we  (hall  afterward  have  occafion  to 
fee,  that  the  paufe  necelfary  for  the  fenfe  muft  often, 
in  fome  degree,  be  facrificed  to  the  verfe -paufe,  and 
the  latter  fometim.es  to  the  former. 

The  pronouncing  fyllables  in  a  high  or  low  tone^ 
contributes  alfo  to  melody.  In  reading  whether 
verfe  or  profe,  a  certain  tone  Is  aifumed,  which  may 
be  called  the  key-note  ;  and  in  that  tone  the  bulk  of 
the  words  ar6  founded.  Sometimes  to  humour  the 
fenfe,  and  fometimes  the  melody,  a  particular  fyl- 
lable  Is  founded  In  a  higher  tone  ;  and  this  Is  term- 
ed accenting  a  fyllable^  or  gracing  it  with  an  accent. 
Oppofed  to  the  accent  is  the  cadence,  which  I  have 
not  mentioned  as  one  of  the  requifites  of  verfe,  bc- 
caufe  it  is  entirely  regulated  by  the  fenfe,  and  hath 


cn*tc^ 


no 


F2 


84  Beauty  of  Language,        Ch.  XVIIL 

no  peculiar  relation  to  verfe.  The  cadence  is  a  fall- 
ing of  the  voice  below  the  key-note  at  the  clofe  of 
every  period  j  and  fo  little  is  it  effential  to  verfe, 
that  in  correft  reading  the  final  fyllable  of  every 
line  is  accented,  that  fyllable  only  excepted  which 
clofes  the  period,  where  the  fenfe  requires  a  cadence. 
The  reader  may  be  fatisfied  of  this  by  experiments  ; 
and  for  that  purpofe  I  recommend  to  him  the  Rape 
cf  the  Lock^  which,  in  point  of  verfification,  is  the 
mofl  complete  performance  in  the  Englifh  language. 
Let  him  confult  in  a  particular  period  canto  2.  be- 
ginning at  line  47.  and  clofed  line  52.  with  the  word 
gay,  which  only  of  the  whole  nnal  fyllables  is  pro- 
nounced with  a  cadence.  He  may  alfo  examine  an^* 
other  period  in  the  5th  canto  which  runs  from  line 
45.  to  line52\ 

Though  the  five  requifites  above  mentioned,  en- 
ter the  compofition  of  every  fpecies  of  verfe,  they 
are  however  governed  by  different  rules,  peculiar  to 
each  fpecies.  Upon  quantity  only,  one  general  obfer- 
'^  » ,  vation  may  be  premifed,  becaufe  it  is  applicable  to  ev- 

/  .  T  *^^y  fpecies  of  verfe.  That  fyllables,  with  refpeft  to  the 
'^^A^mr^i^^ixYiQ.  taken  in  pronouncing,  are  long  or  Ihort  ;  two 
fliort  fyllables,  with  refpett  to  time,  being  precifely 
equal  to  a  long  one.  Thefe  two  lengths  are  effential  to 
verfe  of  all  kinds  j  and  to  no  verfe,  as  far  as  I  know 
is  a  greater  variety  of  time  neceffary  in  pronouncing 
fyllables.  The  voice  indeed  is  frequently  made  to 
reil  longer  than  ufual  upon  a  word  that  bears  an 
important  fignification  ;  but  this  is  done  to  humour 
the  fenfe,  and  is  not  neceffary  for  melody.  A  thing 
not  more  neceffary  for  melody  occurs  witli  refpett 
to  accenting,  fimllar  to  that  now  mentioned  :  A 
word  fignifying  any  thing  hum.blc,  low,  or  dejeded 
is  naturally,  in  profc,  as  well  as  in  verfe,  pronounc- 
ed in  a  tone  below  the  key-note. 

We 


Sect.  IV. 


Beauty  of  Language, 


85 


We  are  now  fufEciently  prepared  for  particulars ; 
beginning  with  Latin  or  Greek  Hexameter,  which 
are  the  fame.  What  I  have  to  obferve  upon  this 
fpecies  of  verfe,  will  come  under  the  four  following 
heads  ;  number,  arrangement,  paufe,  and  accent  : 
For  as  to  quantity,  what  is  obferved  above  may  fuf- 
iice. 

Hexameter  lines  as  to  time  are  all  of  the  fame 
length  ;  being  equivalent  to  the  time  taken  in  pro- 
nouncing twelve  long  fyllables  or  twenty -four  fhort. 
An  Hexameter  line  may  confiH  of  feventeen  fyllables ; 
and  when  regular  and  not  Spondiac,  it  never  has 
fewer  than  thirteen ;  whence  it  follows,  that  were 
the  fyllables  are  many,  the  plurality  mufl  be  Ihort  5 
where  few,  the  plurality  mufl  be  long. 

This  line  is  fufceptible  of  much  variety  as  to  the 
fucceflion  of  long  and  fhort  fyllables.  It  is  however 
fubjefted  to  laws  that  confine  its  variety  within  cer- 
tain limits  ;  and  for  afcertaining  thefe  limits,  gram- 
marians have  invented  a  rule  by  Da6tyles  and  Spon- 
dees, which  they  denominate yt'^/'.  One  at  firil:  view 
is  led  to  think,  that  thefe  feet  are  alfo  intended  to  reg- 
ulate the  pronunciation :  which  is  far  from  being 
the  cafe  ;  for  were  one  to  pronounce  according  to 
thefe  feet,  the  melody  of  a  Hexameter  line  would  be 
deflroyed,  or  at  bell  be  much  inferior  to  what  it  is 
when  properly  pronounced.*  Thefe  feet  mud  be 
confined  to  regulate  the  arrangement,  for  they  ferve 

no 


*  After  giving  fome  attention  to  this  fubjeft,  and  weighing  dcliberafcly 
every  ciicumflance,  I  was  ncce.ffarily  led  to  the  foregoing  conclufion, 
That  the  Datlyle  and  Spondee  are  no  other  tlian  artificial  meafures,  in- 
vented for  trying  the  accuracy  of  conipcjfition.  Repeated  experiments 
have  convinced  me,  that  though  the  fenfe  ftiould  be  neg'cficd,  an  Hex- 
ameter line  read  bv  Daflyles  and  Spondees  will  not  be  nulodius.  And 
the  compofition  of  an  Hexameter  line  demonflrates  this  to  be  true,  with- 
out 

-     F3 


8^  Beauty  of  Language.  Ch.  XVIII. 

no  othei'  purpofe.  They  are  withal  fo  artificial  and 
complex,  that  I  am  tempted  to  fubftitute  in  their 
flead,  o:hsr  rules  more  fimple  and  of  more  eafy  ap- 
plication ;  for  example,  the  following,  ifl,  The 
line  muft  always  commence  with  a  long  fyllable,  and 
ciofe  with  tvvo  long  preceded  by  two  fhort.  2d,  More 
than  two  fnort  can  never  be  found  together,  nor 
fewer  than  two.     And  3d',  Two  long  fyllables  which 

have 

CtU  ncceflitv  of  an  experiment;  for,  as  vill  appear  afterward,  there  muft 
alwa'-s  in  this  'i'  e,  be  a  cap'tal  paiife  at  the  end  ©f  the  fil  h  lonq  f;  liable, 
reckoning,  as  above,  t<vo  fhort  for  one  long  ;  and  when  we  m  afure 
this  line  bv  Did,K;s  and  Spondees,  the  paufe  now  menti<  ned  divides 
al.vays  a  DaH 'le,  01  a  S  )ondee,  without  once  ^ailing  in  after  cither  of 
thefe  feet.  Hence  it  is  evident,  that  if  a  line  be  ponounced  as  it  is 
fcanned  bv  Daftvles  and  Spond  es,  the  pa.ife  mufl  utterlv  be  negiefted  ; 
which  deflroy;  the  melody,  b  caufe  thi>  paufe  is  cffcntial  to  the  m  lodv 
of  an  Hexameter  verfe.  If,  on  the  ether  hand,  the  melodv  be  i  referved 
b,  rn  iking  thjt  paufe,  the  pronouncing  by  Da£lyles  or  SpondvCs  muft 
\)-  abandoned. 

What  has  led  g'-ammarians  into  the  ufe  of  Daflv'e^  and  Spondees, 
fff  ms  not  bevoi'd  the  reach  of  cinj^fture.  To  pi  educe  im-iodr,  the 
I)a£tvle  and  the  S  ondec,  which  c  of^  everv  Hexameter  line,  muft  be 
d'ftinftly  expieff  d  ia  the  pronuncidiion.  Thi.s  di'covery  joined  with 
Another,  that  the  foregoi  ig  >  art  of  ihe  veife  could  be  meafured  bv  the 
fame  ieet,  pr:bably  led  grammaiians  to  adopt  thefe  art  ificial  meafures, 
ai^d  perhaps  rafhly  to  concliide,  that  the  ptonunciation  is  dir<ft  d  by 
thf'fe  feet  as  'he  compofi  ion  is  :  the  Daftyle  and  the  Spondee  at  the 
clv)fo,  fetve  indt-ed  to  reg'ilaie  the  i>roiiuticiition  as  well  as  the  crm;^ofi- 
tion  ;  but  in  the  f  re^^Qing  part  of  the  line,  th>.-y  regulate  the  compodtioa 
only,  not  the  pronunciation. 

If  we  muft  have  feet  in  verfe  to  regulate  the  pronunciation  and  con^ 
fequently  the  melodv,  thefs  feet  miiit  be  determined  bv  the  paufes. 
All  the  fyllables  interjeftcd  between  two  paufes  ought  to  be  deemed  one 
tnufica-  fo  t  ;  becaufe  to  prelerve  the  melody,  they  muft  all  be  pro- 
nounced t  'gether,  without  any  ftop.  And  therefore,  whaiever  number 
there  are  of  paufes  in  a  Hexameter  line,  the  parts  into  which  it  is  divid- 
ed by  :hefe  paufes,  make  jgil  fo  many  mudcai  feet. 

Connexion  obliges  me  here  to  anticipate,  and  to  cbfetve,  that  the 
fame  doftrine  is  applicable  to  Engllfli  heroic  verfe.  Con(iderino  ics 
omoofition  merely,  it  is  of  tv.'o  kinds;  one  compofcd  of  five  Iambi; 
and  one  of  a  Trcchaeus,  followed  by  four  Iambi  :  but  thele  feet  afford 
|io  rule  for  prono mcing  ;  the  mufical  feet  being  obvioufly  tliofe  parts 
of  the  line  that  are  interjefled  b-i  ween  two  paufes.  To  biingout  the 
inelodv,  thefe  feet  muft  be  expieft'ed  in  the  pronunciation;  or,  wliicli 
comes  to  the  fame,  the  pronui)cia(i^>'i  rnufi  be  diiei-tcd  by  the  pauiesi 
yithout  regaid  to  the  Iambus  orTiocbjeus, 


♦Sect.  IV.  Beauty  of  Language,  S7 

have  been  preceded  by  two  fhort,  cannot  alfo  be 
followed  by  two  fliort.  Thefe  few  rules  fulfil  all 
the  conditions  of  a  Hexameter  line,  with  relation  to 
order  or  arrangement.  To  thefe  again  a  fingle  rule 
may  be  fubftituted,  for  which  I  have  a  ftill  greater 
relilh,  as  it  regulates  more  affirmatively  the  con- 
ftruction  of  every  part.  That  I  may  put  this  rule 
into  words  with  perfpicuity,  I  take  a  hint  from  the 
twelve  long  fyllables  that  compofe  an  Hexameter 
line,  to  divide  it  into  twelve  equal  parts  or  portions, 
being  each  of  them  one  long  lyllable  or  two  fhort. 
A  portion  being  thus  defined,  I  proceed  to  the  rule. 
The  ift,  3d,  5th,  7th,  9th,  nth,  and  12th  portions, 
mull  each  of  them  be  one  long  fyllable;  the  ioth,mull 
always  be  two  fhort  fyllables  :  the  2d,  4th  6th  and 
8th,  may  either  be  one  long  or  two  fliort.  Or  to  ex- 
prefs  the  thing  flill  more  curtly,  The  2d,  4th,  6th, 
and  8th  portions  may  be  one  long  fyllable  or  two 
fliort ;  the  10th  mufl  be  two  fhort  fyllables  ;  all  the 
reft  muft  ccnfift  each  of  one  long  fyllable.  This 
fulfils  all  the  conditions  of  an  Hexameter  line,  and 
comprehends  all  the  combinations  of  Dadyles  and 
Spondees  that  this  line  admits. 

Next  in  order  comes  the  paufe.  At  the  end  of 
every  Hexameter  line,  every  one  muft  be  fenfible  of 
a  complete  clofe  or  full  paufe  ;  the  caufe  of  which 
follows.  The  two  long  fyllables  preceded  by  two 
ihort,  which  always  clofe  an  Hexameter  line,  are  a 
fme  preparation  for  a  paufe  :  for  long  fyllables,  or 
fyllables  pronounced  flow,  refembling  a  flow  and 
languid  motion,  tending  to  reft,  naturally  incline  the 
mind  to  reft,  or  to  paufe  ;  and  to  this  inclination  the 
two  preceding  fhort  fyllables  contribute,  which  by 
contraft  make  the  flow  pronunciation  of  the  final 
fyllables  the  more  confpicuous.  Befide  this  com- 
plete 
F4 


SS  Beauty  of  Language,       Ch.  XVIIL 

plete  clofe  or  full  paufe  at  the  end,  others  are  alfo 

requifite  for   the  fake  of  melody  :  of  which  I  dif* 

cover  two  clearly,  and  perhaps  there  may  be  more. 

The  lop.gefl  and  moft  remarkable,  fucceeds  the   5th 

/?     ,  /     portion  :  the  other,   which,  being  fhorter  and  more 

,;    ;y/^^|^^^^^^  "^"^^y  be  called  the  femipaufe\  fucceeds  the  3th 

/    '  poriion.     So   ftriking   is  the  paufe  firfl  mentioned, 

as  to  be  diftinguifhed  even  by  the  rudeft  ear  :  the 

monkifli  rhymes  are   evidently  built  upon   it  ;  in. 

which  by  an  invariable  rule,  the  final  v/ord  always 

chimes  with   that  which  immediately  precedes  tho 

iaid  paufe : 

De  plandlu  ciido  \  metrum  cum  carmine  nudo 
Mingere  cum  bumbis  |j  res  eft  faluberrima  lumbis. 

The  diffeience  of  time  in  the  paufe  and  femipaufe, 
occafions  another  difference  no  lefs  remarkable  ; 
that  it  is  lawful  to  divide  a  word  by  a  femipaufe,  but 
never  by  a  paufe,  the  bad  efled  of  which  is  fenfibly 
felt  ill  \};\t  following  examples ;  • 

E-Tufus  labor,  at  ]|  que  inmitis  rupta  Tyranni 

4g^in  : 
Obfeivans  nido  im  |I  plumes  detraxit  ;  at  ilia 

Again  : 
Loricam  quam  De  ||  moleo  detraxerat  ipfe 

The  dividing  a  vCord  by  a  femipaufe  has  not  the  fame 
bad  effect  : 

Jamque  pcdem  referens  j|  cafus  ejvaferat  omnes. 

Again ; 


Sect.  IV»  Bemty  of  Language.  t^ 

Again : 

Qualis  populea  j]  mcerens  Philojinela  fub  umbra 

Again  ; 

Ludere  que  vellem  ]]  calamo  perjmifit  agrefti, 

Lines,  however,  where  words  are  left  entire,  ^without 
being  divided  even  by  a  femipaufe,  run  by  that 
jneans  much  the  more  fweetly  : 

Nee  gemere  aerea  jj  cefTaibit  j  tu-rtur  ah  ulmo. 

Again  : 
Qiiadrupedante  putrem  jj  fonitu  quatjt  j  ungula  camjputp^ 

Again : 

Eurydicen  toto  ]]  referebant  |  flumlne  ripse. 

The  reafon  of  thefe  obfervations  will  be  evident  up^ 
on  the  flighted:  refledion.J  Between  things  fo  in- 
timately conne6led  in  readmg  aloud,  as  are  fenfe  find 
found,  every  degree  of  difcord  is  impleafant  :  and 
for  that  reafon,  it  is  a  matter  of  importance,  to  make 
the  mufical  paufes  coincide  as  much  as  poffible  with 
thofe  of  fenfe  j  which  is  requifite,  more  efpecially, 
with  refped  to  the  paufe,  a  deviation  from  the  rule 
being  lefs  remarkable  in  a  femipaufe.  Confidering 
the  matter  as  to  melody  foiely,  it  is  indifferent  whether 
the  paufes  be  at  the  end  of  words  or  in  the  middle  ; 
but  when  we  carry  the  fenfe  along,  it  is  difagreeable 
to  find  a  word  fplit  into  two  by  a  paufe,  as  if  there 
were  really  two  words :  and  though  the  difagreeable- 
nefs  here  be  connedled.  with  the  fenfe  only,  it  is  by 
an  eafy  tranfition,  of  perceptions  transferred  to  the 

found  J 


90  Beauty  of  Language.         Ch.  XVIII, 

found  ;  by   which  means  we  conceive  a  line  to  be 
'\.  harfli  and  grating  to  the  ear,  when  m  reaUty  it  is  on- 

ly fo  to  the  underflanding.* 
/)  I      To  the  rule  that  fixes  the  paufe  after  the  fifth  por- 

^^X^on,  there  is   one  exception,  and  no  more  :  if  the 
y^^y     iyTlable  fucceeding  the  5th  portion  be  fliort,  the  paufe 
is  fometimes  poflponed  to  it. 

Pupillis  (juos  dura  |[  pre  mit  cudodia  matrum. 
Again, 

In  terres  opprefla  [|  gravi  fub  religione. 
Again ; 

Et  quorum  pars  magna  [j  fui ;  quls  talia  fando, 

This  contributes  to  diverfify  the  melody ;  and  where 
the  words  are  fmooth  and  liquid,  is  not  ungraceful  ; 
^s  in  the  following  examples : 

Formofam  refonare  \\  doces  Amaryllida  fylvas. 

Again : 

Agricolas,  quibus  Jpfa  jj  procul  difcordibus  armis. 

If  this  paufe,  placed  as  aforefaid  after  the  fhort 
Syllable,  happen  alfo  to  divide  a  word,  the  melody  by 
thefe  circumfbances  is  totally  annihilated,  Witnefs 
the  following  line  of  Ennius  which  is  plain  profe. 

Romac  moenia  tcrru  ]j  it  impiger  ]  Hannibal  armis. 

Hitherto  the  arrangement  of  the  long  and  fhort 
fyllables  of  an  Hexameter  line  and  its  different  paufes, 

have    . 

'•  ^See  chap.  2.  part  i.  ftfl.  f . 


Sect.  IV.  Beauty  of  Language.  9! 

have  been  confidered  with  refpeci  to  melody,  but  to 
have  a  juft   notion  of  Hexameter  verfe,  thcfe   par- 
ticulars mull  alfo  be  confidered  with  reipedt  to  lenfe. 
There  is  not  perhaps  in  any  other  fort  of  verfe,  luch 
latitude  in  the  long   and  fliort  fyllabies  ;  a  circum- 
ftance  that^- contributes  greatly   to   that    richnefs  of 
melody  which  is   remarkable  in  Hexameter  verfe, 
and  which  made  Aviflotle  pronounce,   that  an  epic 
poem  in  any  other  verfe  would  not  fucceed.*     One 
defect,  however,   muft  not  be  diifembled,   that  the 
fame  means  which  coniribute  to  the   richnefs  of  the 
melody,  render  it  Isfs  ht  than  feveral  other  forts  for 
a  narrative  poem.     There  cannot  be  a  more  artful 
contrivance,  as  above  obferved,  than  to  clofe  an  Hex- 
ameter line  with  two  long  fyllabies  preceded  by  two 
(hort :  but  unhappily  this  conflrudion  proves  a  great 
erabarralfment  to  the  ioii-i^  ;  which, will  thus  be  evi- 
dent.    As  in  general,  there  ou^ht  to  be  a  {i:ri<51:  con- 
cordance between  a  thought  and  the  words  in  which 
it  is  dreifed  ;  fo  in  particular,  every  clofe  in  the  fenfe 
ought  to  be  accompanied  Vvith  a  clofe  in  the  found. 
In  profe  this  law  may  be   ftri^lly  obferved ;  but  in 
verfe,  the  fame  ftriftnefs  would  occafion  infuperable 
.  difficulties.     Willing   to    facriiice  to   the  melody  of 
a  verfe,  fome  fhare  of  tlie  concordance  betvvreen  thought 
N^  and  expreffion,  we  freely  excufe  the  feparation  of 
'^  the  mufical  paufe  from  that  of  the  fenfe,  during  the 
qJT  courfe  of  a  line  ;  but  the  clofe  of  an  Hexameter  line  is 
^    too  confpicuous  to  admit  this  liberty  :  for  which  rea- 
^     fon  there  ought  always  to  be  fome  paufe  in  the  fenfe 
^     ;it  the  end  of  every  Hexameter  line,  v/ere  it  but  fuch 
^■^     a  paufe  as  is  marked  with  a  comma  ;  and  for  the 
(j      fame  reafon,  there  ought  never  to  be  a  full  clofe  in 
fhe  fenfe  but  at  the  end  of  a  line,  becaufe  there  the 


*  Poet.  cap.  25, 


92  Beaufy  of  Language,        Ch,  XVIII. 

melody  is  clofed.  An  Hexameter  line,  to  preferve 
its  melody,  cannot  well  admit  any  greater  relaxation ; 
and  yet  in  a  narrative  poem,  it  is  extremely  difficult 
to  adhere  ftriftly  to  the  rule  even  with  thefe  indul- 
gences. Virgil,  the  chief  of  poets  for  verfification, 
is  forced  often  to  end  a  line  without  any  clofe  in  the 
fenfe,  and  as  often  to  clofe  the  fenfe  during  the  run- 
ning of  a  line  ;  though  a  clofe  in  the  melody  during 
the  movement  of  the  thought,  or  a  clofe  in  tha 
thought  during  the  movement  of  the  melody,  can«. 
pot  be  agreeable, 

.#-'  The  accent  to  which  we  proceed,  is  no  lefs  elTen- 
]XJ14^'I  tjal  than  the  other  circumftances  above  handled.  By 
a  good  ear  it  will  be  difcerned,  that  in  every  line 
there  is  one  fyllable  diftinguilTiable  from  the  reft  by 
a  capital  accent :  that  fyllable,  being  the  7th  poy« 
$ion,  is  invariably  long. 

Nee  bene  promeritis  |j  capitur  nee  j  tangitur  ira. 
Again  ; 

Non  fibi  fed  toto  j]  genitura  fe  }  credere  mundo. 
Again : 

Qualis  fpelunca  ||  fubito  comjmota  columba. 

In  thefe  examples,  the  accent  is  laid  upon  the  laft 
fyllable  of  a  word  j  which  is  favourable  to  the  mel-. 
ody  in  the  following  refpect,  that  the  paufe,  which 
for  the  fake  of  reading  diftinftly  muft  follow  every 
word,  gives  opportunity  to  prolong  the  accent.  And 
for  that  reafon,  a  line  thus  accented,  has  a  more 
fpirited  air,  than  when  the  accent  is  placed  on  any 

other 


Sect,  IV.  Beauty  of  Language*  93 

other  fy liable.     Compare  the  foregoing  lines  with 
the  following  : 

Alba  neque  Aflyrio  jj  fucatur  j  lana  veneno. 
Again  : 

Panditur  interea  [j  domus  omnipojtentis  Olympi. 
Again  : 

Olli  fedatoH  refpondit  j  corde  Latinus. 

Ill  lines  where  the  paufe  comes  after  the  fliort  fyl- 
lable  fucceeding  the  fxfth  portion,  the  accent  is  clif- 
placed,  and  rendered  lels  fenfible  :  it  feems  to  be 
fplit  into  two,  and  to  be  laid  partly  on  the  5th  por* 
tion,  and  partly  on  the  7th,  its  ui'ual  place  j  as  in 

Nuda  genu,  nodoque  |1  finus  coljleila  fiuentes, 
Again  : 

Formofam  refonare  |j  doces  Amarjyllida  fylvas. 

Befide  this  caDital  accent,  flig;hter  accents  are  laid 
upon  other  portions  :  particularly  upon  the  4th,  un^ 
lefs  where  it  confifts  of  two  Ihort  fyllables ;  upon 
the  9th,  which  is  always  a  long  fyllable  ;  and  upon 
the  nth,  where  the  line  concludes  with  a  monofyl- 
lable.  Such  conclufion  by  the  by,  impairs  the  mel- 
ody, and  for  that  reafon  is  not  to  be  indulged  unlefs 
where  it  is  expreflive  of  the  fcnfc.  The  following 
lines  are  marked  with  all  the  accents. 

Ludere  qua^  vellem  calanw  permlfit  agrefli. 

Again  ; 


§4:  teauty  of  Langunge.  Ch.  !K VIIL 

Again  • 

Et  dura?  qucicus  fudabunt  rofcida  mclla. 
Again  ; 

Partnriunt  monte?,  nafcetui*  ridicniiis  mtis. 

Reflecling  upon  the  melody  of  Hexameter  Terfej 
we  find,  that  order  or  arrangement  doth  not  conili- 
tute  the  whole  of  it  \  for  when  we  compare  different 
lines,  equally  regular  as  to  the  fucceffion  of  long  and 
fhort  fyllables,  the  melody  is  found  in  very  di^'erent 
degrees  pf  perfection  ;  which  is  not  oc<:afioned  t^y 
any  particular  combination  of  Daclyles  and  Spon- 
dees, or  of  long  and  iliort  fyllables,  becaufe  we  find 
lines  where  Dadyles  prevail,  and  lines  where  Spon- 
dees prevail,  equally  melodious.  Of  the  former 
take  the  following  inftance  : 

j^neadum  genitrix  homuium  divumque  voluptas. 

Of  the  latter  : 

Molli  paulatiin  fluvefcet  campus  arifta. 

What  can  be  more  different  as  to  melody  thari 
the  two  following  lines,  which,  however,  as  to  the 
fucceffion  of  long  and  fhort  fyllables,  are  conltru<^ed 
precifely  in  the  fame  manner  ? 

S:>ond.     Da£l.     Spoiid.  Spond.     Daft.  Spond. 

Ad  talos  itola  diniiiia  et  circmndata  palla.      Hor. 

Spond.     Dafl:.      Spond.  Spond.     D:ift.     Spond. 

Placatumque  nitet  diffufo  luminc  coeium.     Lucr4 

In  the  former,  the  paufe  falls  in  the  middle  of  a 
word,  which  is  a  great  blemilh,  and  the  accent  is 

difturbed 


1Sect.IV. 


Beauty  of  Langimgd. 


^^ 


diflurbed  by  a  harfh  elifion  of  the  vowel  a  upon  the  - 
Jjarticiple  et.  In  the  latter,  the  paufes  and  the  ac- 
cent are  all  of  them  diflintl  and  full  :  there  is  no 
elifion  ;  and  the  words  are  more  liquid  and  founding. 
In  thefe  particulars  confilts  the  beauty  of  an  Hexam- 
eter line  with  refped;  to  melody  :  and  by  neglecting 
thefe,  many  lines  in  the  Satires  ^nd  Epiflles  of  Ho- 
race are  lefs  agreeable  than  plain  profe  ;  for  they 
are  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  in  perfection.  To 
draw  melody  from  thefe  lines,  they  mud  be  prc- 
nouuced  without  relation  to  the  fenfe  :  it  mud  not 
be  regarded,  that  words  are  divided  by  paufes,  nor 
that  harfh  elihons  are  multiplied.  To  add  to  the  ac- 
count profaic  low-founding  words  are  introduced  :' 
and  which  is  ftill  worfe,  accents  are  laid  on  them.    Of  ^ 

fiich  faulty  hnes  take  the  following  inftances.      "-/i^'mc  "^Ci^ 

Candida  re<Slaque  fit,  munda  ha61enus  fit  neque  longa, 

Jupiter  exclamat  fimul  atque  audirit  \  at  in  fe 

Cuftodes,  leflica,  ciniflones,  parafitae 

Optimus  eft  modulator,  ut  Alfenus  Vafer  ornni 

Nunc  illud  tantum  quxram,  ineritone  tibi  fit. 

Next  in  order  comes  Engiifh  Heroic  verfe,  which 
fhall  be  examined  under  the  whole  five  heads,  of 
number,  quantity,  arrangement,  paufe,  and  accent. 
This  verfe  is  of  two  kinds  ;  one  named  rhyme  or  mc- 
tre,  and  one  blank  verfe.  In  the  former,  the  lines 
are  connected  tv/o  and  two  by  fmiilarity  of  found  in 
the  final  fyllables  ;  and  two  lines  fo  connetted  arc 
termed  a  couplet :  fimilarity  of  found  being  avoided 
in  the  latter,  couplets  are  banifhed.')  Thefe  two  (orts> 
mull  be  handled  feparateiy,  becaufe  there  are  many 

peculiarities 


g6  JSeduty  of  Language*         'Ch.  XVIII. 

peculiarities  in  each.  ^3eginning  with  rhyme  or  me- 

t'tjfuJ^X.XQ,  the  lirll  article  (hail  be  difcuiTed  in  a  few  words. 

/  Every  line  confiils  of  ten  fyllables,  five  fliort  and  five 

long  ;  from  which  there  are  but  two  exceptions,  both 

of  them   rare.     The  firft  is,  where   each  line  of  a 

couplet  is  made   eleven  fyliables,  by  an  additional 

fyllabie  at  the  end  f\ 

There  heroes'  wits  are  kept  in  pond'rous  vafes, 
AvA  bcaus'  in  fnuff-bo>:es  and  tweezer-cafes. 

The  piece,  you  think,  is  incorre<5l  ?  ^liy,  take  it ; 
I'm  ail  fubmifiion  j  what  you'd  have  it,  make  it. 

This  licence  is  fufFerable  In  a  fmgle  couplet  j  but  if 

frequent,  would  give  difguft. 

The  other  exception  concerns  the  fecond  line  of  a 
couplet,  which  is  fometimes  ftretched  out  to  twelve 
fyliables,  termed  an  Alexandrine  line  : 

A  needlefs  Alexandrine  ends  the  Tong, 

Thar,  like  a  wounded  fnake,  drags  its  flow  length  along* 

It  doth  extremely  v/ell  when  employed  to  clofe  a  pe- 
riod with  a  certain  pomp  and  folemnity,  where  the 
fubjeft  makes  that  tone  proper.  ^ 
^        .  With   regard   to   quantity   it   is   unnecefiary    to 

(/iijpimJhi  '^'ic'^tiort  a  fecond  time,  that  the  quantities  era- 
^  I  ployed  in  verfe  are  but  two,  the  one  double  of 
the  other  ;  that  every  fyllabie  is  reducible  to  one 
or  other  of  thefe  ftandards  ;  and  that  a  fyllabie  of 
the  larger  quantity  is  termed  k?2^,  and  of  the  lefKn- 
quantity  y/jc;-/.  It  belongs  more  to  the  prefent  aru- 
cle,  to  examine  what  peculiarities  there  may  be  in  the 
Englilh  language  as  to  long  and  fhort  fyliables.  Ev- 
ery language  has  .fyliables  that  may  be  pronounced 
long  or  ihort  at  pleafure  j  but  the  EngliOi  above  all 

abounds 


-Sect.  IV.  Beauty  of  Language.  9^ 

•abounds  in  fyllables  of  that  kind :  in  fvords  of  three 
or  more  fyllables,  the  quantity  for  the  moH  part  is 
invariable  :  the  exceptions  are  more  frequent  in  dif* 
fyllables :  but  as  to  monofyllables,  they  may,  with- 
out many  exceptions,  be  pronounced  either  long-  or 
ihort  ;  nor  is  the  ear  hurt  by  a  liberty  that  is  render- 
•ed  familiar  by  cuftora.  This  fhows,  that  the  melo- 
dy of  Enghfh  verfe  muft  depend  lefs  upon  quantity, 
than  upon  other  circumilances  :  in  which  it  diifers 
widely  from  Latin  verfe,  where  every  fyllable,  hav- 
ing but  one  found,  llrikes  the  ear  uniformly  with  its 
accullomed  impreifion  ;  and  a  reader  muft  be  de- 
lighted to  find  a  number  of  fuch  fyllables,  difpofed 
■fo  artfully  as  to  be  highly  melodious.  Syllables  va- 
riable in  quantity  cannot  poifefs  this  power  :  for 
though  cuftom  may  render  familiar,  both  a  long  and 
a  Ihort  pronunciation  of  the  fame  word  ;  yet  the  mind 
wavering  between  the  two  founds,  cannot  be  fo  much 
affeded  as  \n)'here  every  fyllable  has  one  fixed  ibund. 
What  I  have  further  to  fay  upon  quantity,  will  come 
more  properly  under  the  following  head,  of  arrange- 
ment. '  /^ 

And  with  rcfpefl  to  arrangement,  which  may  be  i^x-^^^'f'^' 
brought  within  a  narrow  compafs,  the  Ei^gliih  He- 
roic line  is  commonly  Iambic,  the  fird  fyllable  fhort, 
the  fecond  long,  and  fo  on  alternately  through  the      ^,-, 
whole  line.     One  exception  there  is,  pretty  frequent,  O^^^^^/a 
of  lines  commencing  with  a  Trochseus,  /'.  e.  a  long    ^^  / 
and  a  fhort  fyllable  :  but  this  aliects  not  the  order  cf 
the  following  fyllables,  which  go  on  alternately  a:J 
iifual,  one  fhort  and  one  long.     The  fQllowing  coup- 
let aifords  an  example  of  each  Idnd." 


SomP  t'l  t!^e  fields  Xy^  pureH  TtVier  p'av, 
^jid  balk  and  wblt'in  an  the  blaze  of  d3v. 


Ic 


Vol.  II, 


9S  Beauty  of  Language.         Ch.  TYWi, 

\It  is  a  great  Imperfedion  In  Englifli  verfe,  that  it 
excludes  the  bulk  of  polyfyllables,  which  are  the 
mofl  founding  words  in  our  language  ;  for  very  few 
of  them  have  fuch  alternation  of  long  and  fhort  fylla- 
bles  as  to  correfpond  to  either  of  the  arrangements 
mentioned.^  Englifh  verfe  accordingly  is  almoft  to- 
tally reduced  to  dilfyllables  and  monofyllables : 
7nagna7iimity  is  a  founding  word  totally  excluded  : 
impetuoftty  is  ftill  a  finer  word,  by  the  refemblance  of 
the  found  and  fenfe  ;  and  yet  a  negative  is  put  upon 
it,  as  v/ell  as  upon  numberlefs  words  of  the  fame 
kind.  Polyfyllables  compofed  of  fyllables  long  and 
fhort  alternately,  make  a  good  figure  in  verfe  ;  for 
example,  oBfervance^  opponent^  ojienfive,  pindaric,  prO' 
duclive,  prolific,  and  fuch  others  of  three  fyllables. 
J;!iitatio?2,  imperfe^iion.,  mij demeanor^  mitigation,  mode- 
ration, obfervator,  ornamental,  regulator,  and  others 
fnnilar  of  four  fyllables,  beginning  with  two  fliort  fyl- 
lables, the  third  long,  and  the  fourth  Ihort,  may  find 
a  place  in  a  line  commencing  with  a  Trochseus.  I 
know  not  if  there  be  any  of  five  fyllables.  One  I 
know  of  fix,  viz.  mifinterpretation  :  but  words  fo 
compofed  arc  not  frequent  in  our  language. 

One  would  not  imagine  without  trial,  how  un- 
couth falfe  quantity  appears  in  verfe  ;  not  lefs  than  a 
provincial  tone  or  idiom.  The  article  the  is  one  of 
the  few  m-onofyllables  that  is  invariably  lliort  :  ob- 
ferve  how  harfli  it  makes  a  line  where  it  muft  be 
pronounced  long  ; 

This  nymph,  to  the  defliu£lion  of  mankind. 

Again, 

Th'  advent'rous  baifjn  the  biYght  locks  admir'd. 

Let  it  be  pronounced  Ihort,  and  it  reduces  the  melody 
alnioll   to  nothing  :  better   fo   however   than  falfe 

quantity. 


Sect.  IV.  Beauty  ef  Language.  95 

quantity.     In  the  following  examples  we  perceive  the 
fame  defed  : 

And  old  impertinence  ||  expel  by  new 

With  varying  vanities  ||  from  ev'ry  part 

Love  in  thefe  labyrinths  []  his  flaves  detains 

New  (Iratagems  j|  the  radiant  lock  to  gain 

Her  eyes  halt  langiiifliing  ||  half  drown'd  in  t^rs 

Roar'd  for  the  handkerchiet  ||  that  caus'd  his  pain 

Pi^llions  like  elements  ||  though  born  to  fight. 

The  great  variety  of  melody  confpicuous  in  Eng- 
lilh  verfe,  arifes  chiefly  from  the  paufes  and  accents  ; 
which  are  (?f  greater  importance  than  is  commonly 
thought.  .  '^here  is  a  degree  of  intricacy  in  this 
branch  of  our  fubjed:,  and  it  will  be  difficult  to  give 
a  diflindl  view  of  it  ;   but  it  is  top  late  to   think  of  / 

difficulties  after  we  are  engaged.  '\  The  paufe,  which  /0^ ^ 
paves  the  way  to  the  accent,  offers  itfelf  firfl  to  our 
examination  ■;  and  from  a  very  fliort  trial,  the  fol- 
lowing fafts  will  be  verified,  aft,  A  line  admits  but 
one  capital  paufe.  2d,  In  different  lines,  we  find 
this  paufe  after  the  fourth  fyllable,  after  the  fifth, 
after  the  fixth,  and  after  the  feventh.i  jThefe  four 
places  of  the  paufe  lay  a  folid  foundation  for  divid- 
ing Englifh  Heroic  lines  into  four  kinds  ;  and  I 
warn  the  reader  beforehand,  that  unlefs  he  attend 
to  this  diftindion,  he  cannot  have  any  jufl  notion  of 
the  richnefs  and  variety  of  Englifli  verfification.  Each 
kind  or  order  hath  a  melody  peculiar  to  itfelf,  read- 
ily diftinguiffiable  by  a  good  ear  :  and  I  am  not  with- 
out hopes  to  make  the  caufe  of  this  peculiarity  fuffi- 
ciently  evident.  It  muft  be  obferved,  at  the  fame 
time,  that  the  paufe  cannot  be  made  indifferently  at 
any  of  the  places  mentioned  :  it  is  the  fenfe  that  reg- 
ulates the  paufe,  as  will  be  feen  afterward  ;  and  cou- 

fequentlv, 
G2 


loo  Beauty  of  Lan^ua^e.         Ch.  XVIIL 

fequently,  it  Is  the  f<Mife  that  determines  of  what  or- 
der every  line  mufl  be  :  there  can  be  but  one  capital 
mufical  paufe  in  a  hne  ;  a*id  that  paufe  ought  to 
coincide,  if  poflible,  with  a  paufe  in  the  fenfe,  in  or- 
der that  the  found  may  accord  with  the  fenfe.  ■ 

What  is  faid  jfhall  be  illuftrated  by  examples  of 
each  fort  or  order.  And  firil  of  the  paule  after  the 
fourth  fyllable  : 

Back  through  the  paths  jj  of  pleafing  fenfe  I  ran. 

Again, 

Profufe  of  blifs  H  and  pregnant  with  delight. 
After  the  5th : 

So  when  an  angel  jj  by  divine  command, 
With  rifing  tempelts  j|  Ihakes  a  guihy  land. 

After  the  6th  : 

Speed  the  foft  intercourfe  ||  from  foul  to  foul. 
Again, 

Then  from  his  clofing  eye«  j)  thy  form  fhall  part. 
After  the  7th  : 

And  taught  the  doubtful  battle  j]  where  to  rage. 
Again, 

And  in  the  fmooth  defcription  jj  murmur  ftilh 

Bfcfide  the  capital  paufe  now  mentioned,  inferior 
paufes  will  be  dilcovered  by  a  nice  ear.  Of  thefe 
there  are  commonly  two  in  each  line  :  one  before 
the  capital  paufe,   and  one  after  it.     The  former 

comes 


Sect.  IV.  Beauty  of  Language,  loi 

comes  invariably  after  the  firfl  long  fyllable,  whether 
the  line  begin  with  a  long  fyllable  or  a  fhorti,  The 
other  in  its  variety  imitates  the  capital  paufe  :  in 
fome  lines  it  comes  after  the  6th  fyllable,  in  fome 
after  the  7th,  and  in  fome  after  the  8th»  Of  thefc 
femipaufes  take  the  following  examples. 

ifl:  and  8th  : 

Led  J  through  a  fad  |[  variety  j  of  wo. 
I  ft  and  7th  : 

Siill  I  on  that  bread  |  enamour'd  |  let  me  lie. 
2d  and  8  th  : 

From  ftorms  {  a  fhelter  ({  and  from  heat    j  a  ihade. 
cd  and  6th  : 

Let  wealth  j  let  honour  [j  wait  |  the  wedded  dame, 
2d  and  7th  : 

Above  I  all  pain  j|  all  paflion  j  and  all  pride. 

Even  from  thefe  few  examples  it  appears,  that  the 
place  of  the  laft  femipaiife,  like  that  of  the  full  paufe, 
js  direfted  in  a  good  meafure  by  the  fenfe.\  Its 
proper  place  with  refpeft  to  the  melody  is  after  fhe 
eighth  fyllable,  fo  as  to  finifh  the  line  with  an  Iam- 
bus diftinclly  pronounced,  which,  by  a  long  fyllable 
after  a  fhort,  is  a  preparation  for  refl  :\but  fometimes 
it  comes  after  the  6th,  and  fornetimes  after  the  7th 
fyllable,  in  order  to  avoid  a  paufe  in  the  middle  of  a 
word,  or  between  two  words  intimately  connefted'j 
and  fo  far  melody  is  jullly  facrificed  to  fenfe. 

G3  In 


I03  Beauty  of  Lan^ua^e,  Ch.  XVIIt. 

fin  difcourfing  of  Hexameter  verfe,  it  was  laid 
down  as  a  rule,  That  a  full  paufe  ought  never  to  di- 
vide a  word  :  fuch  licence  deviates  too  far  from  the 
coincidence  that  ought  to  be  between  the  paufes  of 
fenfe  and  of  melody.  The  fame  rule  muft  obtain  in 
an  Englilh  line  j  and  we  Ihall  fupport  reafon  by  ex- 
periments : 

A  noble  fuperjjiluity  it  craves 
Abhor,  a  perpe||tuity  fhould  ftand 

Are  thefe  lines  diflinguiflrable  from  profe  ?  Scarce- 
ly, I  think. 

The  fame  rule  is  not  applicable  to  a  femipaufe, 
which  being  fhort  and  faint, ,  is  not  fenfibly  difagree- 
abie  when  it  divides  a  word. ' 

Relen'lU-fs  walls  j]  whofe  darkfome  round  |  contains 
For  her  j  white  virgins  |]  hymtjieals  fiiig 
In  thefe  [  deep  folitudes  [|  and  av\  Jiul  cells. 

It  mud  however  be  acknowledged,  that  the  melo- 
dy here  fuffers  in  fome  degree  :  a  word  ought  to 
be  pronounced  without  any  reft  between  its  com^po- 
nent  fyllables  :  a  femipaufe  that  bends  to  this  rule, 
is  fcarce  perceived. 

The  capital  paufe  is  fo  effential  to  the  melody,  that 
one  cannot  be  too  nice  in  the  choice  of  its  place,  in 
order  to  have  it  clear  and  diftinft.  It  cannot  be  in 
better  company  than  with  a  paufe  in  the  fenfe  ;  and 
if  the  {qw^q  require  but  a  comma  aftg-  the  fourth, 
fifth,  fixth,  or  feventh  fyllable,  it  is  fufficient  for  the 
mufical  paufe.  But  to  make  fuch  coincidence  effen- 
tial, would  cramp  verfificatlon  too  much  ;  and  we 
have  experience  for  our  authority,  that  there  may 
be  a  paufe  in  the  melody  where  the   fenfe  requires 

*  none. 


Sect.  IV.  Beauty  of  Language.  103 

none.  We  muft  not  however  imagine,  th^it  a  niu- 
fical  paufe  may  come  after  any  word  indifterently  : 
fome  words,  like  fyllables  of  the  fame  word,  are  fo 
intimately  conneded,  as  not  to  bear  a  feparation 
even  by  a  paufe.  The  feparating,  for  example,  a 
fubflantive  from  its  article  would  be  har(h  and  uh- 
pleafant  :  witnefs  the  following  line,  which  cannot 
be  pronounced  with  a  paufe  as  marked, 


If  Delia  fmile,  the  jj  flow'rs  begin  tt>  fpring. 
ner, 


But  ought  to  be  pronounced  in  the  following  man- 


If  Delia  fmile,  j]  the  flow'rs  begin  to  fpring. 

If  then  it  be  not  a  matter  of  indifference  where  to 
*make  the  paufe,  there  ought  to  be  rules  for  deter- 
mining what  words  may  be  feparated  by  a  paufe,  and 
what  are  incapable  of  fuch  feparation.  '  I  fhall  en- 
deavour to  afcertain  thefe  rules  ;  not  chiefly  for  their 
utility,  but  in  order  to  unfold  fome  latent  principles, 
that  tend  to  regulate  our  tade  even  where  we  are 
fcarce  fenfible  of  them  :  and  to  that  end,  the  method 
that  appears  tlie  moft  promifmg,  is  to  run  over  the 
verbal  relations,  beginning  with  the  moft  intimate. 
/The  firft  that  prefents  itielf  is  that  of  adjeftive  and 
fubftantive,  being  the  relation  of  fubjecl  and  quality, 
the  moil  intimate  of  all  :  and  with  refpeft  to  fuch  in- 
timate companions,  the  queftion  is.  Whether  they 
can  bear  to  be  feparated  by  a  paufe.j  What  occurs 
is,  that  a  quality  cannot  exift  independent  of  a  fub- 
jecl ;  nor  are  they  feplrable  even  in  imagination,  be- 
caufe  they  make  pr.rts  of  the  fame  idea.:  and  for  that 
reafon,  with  refpe6l  to  i^ielody  as  well  as  fenfe,  it. 
mull  be  difagrceable,  to  beftow  upon  the  adjective  a* 

foit 
Q  4 


1^4        .  Beauty  of  Language.         Ch.  XVIIf» 

fort  of  independent  exiftence,  by  interjefting  a  paufe 
between  it  and  its  fubftantive.  I  cannot  therefore 
approve  the  following  lines,  nor  any  of  the  fort  j  foF 
to  my  tafte  they  are  harili  and  unpleafant. 

Of  thoufand  bright  jj  inhabitants  of  air 
The  fpritesot  fiery  |1  tennagaiits  inilaine 
The  relt,  his  many-colour  d  ||  robe  conceal'd 
The  fame,  his  ancient  |j  peif /nnge  to  deck 
Ev'n  here,  where  frozen  j|  Challiiy  retires 
I  fit,  with  fad  Ij  civility,  1  read 
Back  to  rny  native  j|  moderation  Aide, 
Or  ihall  Ave  ev'ry  ||  decency  co-nfound 
Time  was,^  a  fober  |]  Engl ifii man  would  knock 
And  place,  on  good  ||  fecurity,  his  gold 
Tafte,  that  eternal  {j  wanderer,  which  flies 
But  ere  the  tenth  j[  revolving  day  was  run 
I'irit  let  the  juft  |}  equivalent  be  paid. 
f  Go,  threat  thy  earth-born  f,  Myrmidons  ;  but  here 

'    •         Hade  to  tb.e  fierce  jj  Achilles'  tera  (iie  cries) 
A.il  but  the  ever  wsKeful  jj  eyes  of  Jove 
Your  own  refiftlefs  jj  eloqiicnce  employ 

I  have  upon  this  article  multiplied  examples,  that  in 
a  cafe  where  I  h.ave  the  misfortune  to  diflike  what 
paifes  current  in  practice,  every  man  upon  the  fpot 
i;iay  judge  by  bio  own  tafte.  And  to  tafte  I  appeal  ; 
for  ♦though  i]\t  foregoing  reafaning  appears  to  me 
juft,  it  is  hov/eVer  fco  lubtife  to  afford  conviclion  in 
oppofition  to  tafte. 

Conhuerine  this. matter  fiineruciallv,  one  might  be 
apt  to  ini'igiue,  that  it-  muft  be  the  fame,  whether 
the  adjec^tive  go  firftj  .which  is-.the  natural  order,  or 
the  fubftantivj,  which  is  indulged  by  theUws.of  in- 
verfion.  Bai:j.:vYs;''forji  dif^^oyei'  this,to  be  a  miilake  : 
colour,  for  example,  cannot  be  conceived  independ- 
ent of  die  furface  coloured^  but  a  tree  may  be  con^ 
ccived^  as.  grovvin^  in  a  certain  T]iot,  as^of  a  certain 
kind,  and  as  fpreading  its  extended   branches  ail 

around. 


Si;cT.  IV.  Beauty  of  Language.  105 

around,  without  ever  thinking  of  its  colour.  In  a 
word,  a  fubjed:  may  be  confidered  with  fome  ot  its 
qualities  independent  of  others  ;  though  we  cannot 
iorm  an  image  of  any  fingle  quahty  independent  of 
the  fubjeftJ  (Thus  then,  though  an  adje^cive  named 
firfl  be  infepiiable  ft^om  the  fubftantive,  the  propo- 
fition  does  not  reciprocate;:  \\\  image  can  be  formed 
of  the  fubftantive  independent  of  the  adjecliv^  ;  and 
for  that  reafon  they  may  be  feparated  by  a  paufe, 
when  the  fubftantive  takes  the  lead. 

For  thee  the  fates  jj  feverely  kind  ordain 

And  curs'd  with  hearts  j{  unknowing  how  to  yield. 

The  verb  and  adverb  are  precifely  in  the  fame  con- 
dition with  the  fubftantive  and  adjective.  An  ad- 
terb,  which  modifies  the  adion  exprefled  by  the 
terb,  is  not  feparable  from  the  verb  even  in  imagin- 
ation :  and  therefore  I  muft  alio  give  up  the  follow^ 
jng  hues  : 

And  which  It  much  jl  becomes  you  to  forget 
'Tis  one  thing  madly  jj  to  difperfe  my  ftore. 

But  an  acbion  may  be  conceived  with  fome  of  its  mod- 
iiications,  leaving  out  others  ;  precifely  as  a  fubjeO: 
may  be  conceived  with  fome  of  its  qualities,  leaving 
out  others  \  and  therefore,  when  by  inverfion  the 
yerb  is  firft  introduced,  it  has  no  bad  eifeft  to  inter, 
jeft  a  paufe  between  it  and  the  adverb  that  follows. 
This  may  be  done  at  the  clofe  of  a  line,  where  the 
paufe  is  at  leaft  as  full  as  that  is  v/hich  divides  the  line  ; 

While  yet  he  fpoke,  the  Prince  advancing  drew 
Nigh  10  ihe  lodge,  •»t7'f. 

The  agent  and  its  adion  come  next,  exprefied  in 
grammar  by  the  aftive  fubuautivc  and  its  verb.     Be« 

tweea 


io6  Beauiy  of  Langhage.  Ch.  X"\1II. 

twcen  thefe,  placed  in  their  natural  order,  there  is  no 
difficulty  of  interjecling  a  paufe  :  an  adive  being  is 
not  always  in  motion,  and  therefore  it  is  eafily  fepa- 
rable  in  idea  from  its  action  :  when  in  a  fentence  the 
fubftantive  takes  the  lead,  we  know  not  that  aftion 
is  to  follow  ;  and  as  reft:  mud  precede  the  com- 
mencement of  motion,  this  interval  is  a  proper  op- 
portunity for  a  paufe. 

But  v^hen  by  inverfion  the  verb  is  placed  firft,  is 
it  lawful  to  fepurate  it  by  a  paufe  from  the  active  fub- 
flantive  ?  I  anfwer,  No  :  becaufe  an  aftion  is  not  an 
idea  feparable  from  the  agent,  more  than  a  quality 
from  the  fubject  to  which  it  belongs.  Two  lines  of 
the  firft  rate  for  beauty,  have  ahvays  appeared  to  ms 
exceptionable,  upon  account  of  the  paufe  thus  inter- 
je6:ed  between  the  verb  and  the  consequent  fubftan- 
tive  ;  and  I  have  now  diicovered  a  reafon  to  fupport 
my  tafte  : 

In  ^hefedecp  foil tudes  and  awful  cells, 

Where  heav'nly-peniive  jj  Contemplation  dwells, 

And  ever-mufing  ||  Melancholy  reigns. 

The  point  of  the  greateft:  delicacy  regards  the  ac- 
tive verb  and  the  pafiive  fubftantive  placed  in  their 
natural  order.  On  the  one  hand,  it  will  be  obferved, 
that  thefe  words  fignify  things  which  are  not  fepara- 
ble in  idea.  KiUing  cannot  be  conceived  without  a 
being  that  is  put  to  death,  nor  painting  without  a 
furnace  upon  which  the  colours  are  fpread.  On  the 
other  hand,  an  adibn  and  the  thing  on  which  it  is 
exerted,  are  not,  like  fubjed  and  quality,  united  *in 
one  individual  dbjeiSl  :  the  active  fubftantive  is  per- 
fectly diltinft  from  that  which  is  paliiye  ;  and  they 
are  couiipfted  by  one  circumftance  pnlyj^  that  the 
action  of  the  former  ia, exerted  upon  the  latter.  'This' 
makes  it  poiTiblc  to  take  the  adion  to  pieces,  and  to 

confider 


Sect.  IV.  Beauty  of  Language*  107 

confider  it  firfl  with  relation  to  the  agent,  atid  nex' 
with  relation  to  the  patient.  But  after  all,  fo  inti- 
mately conneded  are  the  par:s  of  the  thought,  that 
it  requires  an  eftbrt  to  make  a  feparation  even  for  a 
moment :  the  fubtilifmg  to  fuch  a  degree  is  not  agree- 
able, efpecially  in  works  of  imagination.  The  befl 
poets,  however,  taking  advantag;e  of  this  fubtilty, 
fcruple  not  to  feparate  by  a  paufe  an  adive  verb  from 
the  thing  upon  which  it  is  exerted.  Such  paufes  in 
a  long  work  may  be  indulged  ;  but  taken  fmgly, 
they  certainly  are  not  agreeable  ;  and  I  appeal  to  tiie 
following  examples  : 

The  peer  now  fpreads  jj  thegnu'rirfgi-forfcx  wiJe 

As  ever  fiiUy'ci  |]  the  fair  face  of  light 

Repair'd  to  fearch  j]  the  yluomy  cave  of  Spleen 

Nothing,  to  make  ||  Philofonliyithy  friend 

Shou'd  chance  to  make  |]  thfe  well-drefsM  rabble  flare 

Or  crofs,  to  plunder  |j  provinces,  the  main 

Thefe  madmen  ever  hnrt  j|  the  chOrch  or  ftate 

How  ihall  we  till  {|  a  library  with  wit 

Whai  better  teach  (1  a  foreigner  the  tongtie 

Soie,  it  I  fpire  ||  the  miniiler,  no  rules 

Of  honour  bind  me,  not  to  uiatil  his  tools. 

On  the  other  hand,  when  the  r-afTive  fcbfiantive  Is  by 
inverfion  firll  named,  there  is  no  difiicalty  of  inter- 
jeding  a  paufe  between  it  ai^d  th?  verb,  more  than 
when  the  aclive  fubilantive  is  firft  named.  The  fame 
reafbn  holds  in  both,  that  thoiigh  a  verb  cannot  be 
feparateH  in  idea  ^f ropi-' the"  fubftantive  wfiich  gov- 
erns it,  and  fcarcely  from  t^o.  fulbftantiye  it  governs  ; 
yet  a  fubltantivean^iy  always  l^e  conceifed^indepen- 
dent  of  the  verb  :  \vl]eif  the  psilive  ^ujp'ftahtive- is  m- 
troduced  before, the  verb^'  \te  kpoV-.not*rbat  an  ac- 
tion is  to  be  exerted  upon  il  ;  thef¥fore'%'€;jiiciy  reft 
fill  the  action  Commenrc  I  o^/ lift  fSike^  oi  iliui- 

tr::tion  take  the  foljowiur;  .^x.unplcs  : 

Shrines  ! 


i,oS  Beauty  of  Language,        Ch.  XVIIL 

Shrines  !  wl'.ere  there  vigils  ||  pale-ey'd  virgins  keep 
Soon  as  thy  letters  Ij  trembling  I  tinclofe 
No  happier  tafk  |1  thefc  tadcd  eyes  piirfue. 

What  is  faid  about  the  paufe,  leads  to  a  general 
obfervation,  That  the  natural  order  of  placing  the 
aftive  fubllantive  and  its  verb,  is  more  friendly  to  a 
paufe  than  the  inverted  order ;  but  that  in  all  the- 
other  connedions,  inverfion  affords  a  far  better  op- 
portunity for  a  paufe.  And  hence  one  great  advan- 
tage of  blank  verfe  over  rhyme  ;  its  privilege  oY  in- 
verfion giving  it  a  much  greater  choice  of  paufes 
than  can  be  had  in  the  natural  order  of  arrange- 
ment. "^ 

We  novi^  proceed  to  the  flighter  connexions,  which 
{hall  be  difcuffed  in  one  general  article.  Words  con- 
nefted  by  conjunclions  and  prepofitions  admit  freely 
a  paufe  between  them,  which  will  be  clear  from  the 
following  inftances : 

AfTiime  what  fexe?  {|  and  what  fhape  they  pleafe 
The  light  militia  [j  of  the  lower  fty 

Connefting  particles  were  invented  to  unite  in  a  pe- 
riod two  fubllances  fignifying  things  occafionally  unit- 
ed in  the  thought,  but  which  have  no  natural  union: 
and  between  tvv'o  things  not  only  feparable  in  idea, 
but  really  diftin^t,  the  mind,  for  the  fake  of  mel- 
ody chterfuily  admits  by  a  paufe,  a  momentary  dif- 
junftion  of  their  occafional  union. 

One  capital  branch  of  the  fubjed  is  flill  upon  hand, 
to  x^  hich  I  am  direded  by  what  is  jufl  now  faid.-  It 
concerns  thofe  parts  of  fneech  which  fmgly  reprefent 
no  idea,  jmd  which  become  not  fignificant  till  they 
be  joined  to  other  words.'  I  mean  conjundions, 
prepofitions,     j^rticlcs   and     fuch    like     accefTorlesi 

palling 


Sect.  IV.  Bmuty  of  Langiw^^.  109 

pafling  under  the  name  of  particles.  Upon  thefe  the 
queilion  occurs.  Whether,  they  can  be  feparated  by 
a  paufe  from  the  words  that  make  them  fignificajit  I 
Whether,  for  example,  m  the  following  lines,  tha 
reparation  of  the  acceifory  prepofition  from  the  prin- 
cipal fubflantive  be  according  to  rule  ? 

The  goddefs  with  j|  a  difcontentcd  air 

And  iieighten'd  by  |i  tl:e  diamond's  circling  rays 

When  victims  at  1|  yon  altar's  foot  we  lay 

So  take  it  in  1)  th.e  very  Vvords  of  Creech 

An  enfignofjl  the  delegates  of  Jove 

Two  ages  o'er  j]  his  native  realm  he  reigii'd 

While  angels,  vvitn  }|  their  iiiver  wii^s  o'erlhade. 

Or  the  feparation  of  the  conjunflion  from  the  word 
that  is  connefted  by  it  with  the  antecedent  word  i 

Talthybius  and  Jl  Eurybates  the  good 

It  will  be  obvious  at  the  firll  glance,  that  the  fore* 
going  reafoning  upon  objeds  naturally  connected,  is 
not  applicable  to  words  which  of  themfelves  are  mere 
ciphers :  we  mufl  therefore  have  recourfe  to  fom($ 
other  principle  for  folving  the  prefent  queilion. 
Thefe  particles  out  of  their  place  are  totally  infignif* 
leant :  to  give  them  a  meaninn;,  they  m.ufl  be-  joined 
to  certain  words ;  and  the  neceffity  of  this  junclionj 
together  Avith  cuftom,  forms  an  artificial  connection 
that  has  a  flrong  influence  upon  the  mind  :  it  cannot 
bear  even  a  momentary  feparation,  which  deflroys 
the  fenfe,  and  is  at  the  fame  time  contradidory  to 
praclice.  Another  circumP:ance  tends  ftill  m.ore  to 
make  this  feparation  difagi  eeable  in  lines  of  the  firft 
and  third  order,  that  it  bars  the  accent,  which  willb^ 
explained  afterward,  in  treating  of  the  accent. 

HitheriO 


no  Beauty  of  Language,         Ch.  XVIIT, 

Hitherto  upon  that  paufe  only  which  divides  the 
liiite.  We  proceed  to  the  paufe  that  concludes  the 
line  ;  and  the  queftion  is,  Whether  the  fame  rules 
be  applicable  to  both  i*  This  muft  be  anfwered  by 
making  a  diftinclion.  In  the  firft  line  of  a  couplet, 
the  concluding  paufe  differs  little,  if  at  all,  from  the 
paufe  that  divides  the  line  ;  and  for  that  reafon,  the 
rules  are  applicable  to  both  equally.  The  conclud- 
ing paufe  of  the  couplet  is  in  a  different  condition  :■ 
it  refembles  greatly  the  concluding  paufe  in  an  Hex- 
ameter line.  Both  of  them  indeed  aie  fo  remarka- 
ble, that  they  never  can  be  graceful,  unlefs  where 
they  accompany  a  paufe  in  the  fenfe.  Hence  it  fol- 
lows, that  a  couplet  ought  always  to  be  finilhed  with 
fome  clofc  in  the  fenfe  ;  if  not  a  point,  at  leaft  a 
comma.  The  truth  is,  that  this  rule  is  feldom  tranf- 
greffed.  In  Pope's  works,  1  find  very  few  deviations 
from  the  rule. ,  Take  the  following  inllances ; 

Nothinc:  is  foreign  :  parts  relate  to  whole  ; 
One  all-extending,  all-preferving  foul 


Conneds  each  being 


Another  : 

...  >j 

To  draw  frefn  colours  from  the  vernal  flow'rs. 
To  Ileal  from  rainbows  ere  tliey  drop  in  fhow^'rs 
A  brighter  walh 

I  add,  with  refpecl  to  paufes  In  general,  that  fup- 
pofmg  the  connexion  to  be  fo  {lender  as  to  admit  a 
paufe,  it  follows  not  that  a  paufe  may  in  every  fuch 
cafe  be  admitted.  There  is  one  rule  to  which  every 
other  ought  to  bend,  That  the  fenfe  muff  never  bs 
wounded  or  obfcured  by  the  mufic  ;  and  upon  that 
account  I  condemn  the  following  lines  : 

Ulyffts,  firft  [[  in  public  cares,  fhe  found 

And, 


Sect.  IV.  Beauty  of  Language.  1 1 1 

And, 

Who  riling,  high  |1  th' imperial  fceptre  rais'd. 

With  refpeft  to  mverfion,  it  appears,  both  from 
reafon  and  experiments,  that  many  words  which  can- 
not bear  a  feparation  in  their  natural  order,  admit  a 
paufe  when  inverted.)  And  it  may  be  added,  that 
"when  two  words,  or  two  members  of  a  fentence,  in 
their  natural  order,  can  be  feparated  by  a  paufe, 
fuch  feparation  can  never  be  amifs  in  an  inverted  or- 
der. ;An  inverted  period,  which  deviates  from  the 
natural  train  of  ideas,  requires  to  be  marked  in  fome 
meafure  even  by  paufes  in  the  fenfe,  that  the  parts 
may  be  diftindly  known.  Take  the  following  ex- 
amples : 

As  with  cold  lips  [|  I  kifs'd  the  facred  vfil 
With  other  beauties  ||  charm  my  partial  eyes 
Full  in  my  view  ||  let  all  the  brigiit  abode 
With  words  like  thcfe  ||  the  troops  Ulylfes  rul'd 
Back  to  th'  alFembly  xoW  jl  the  thronging  train 
Not  for  th(^r  grief  j|  the  Grecian  holt  I  blame. 

The  fame  where  the  feparation  is  made  at  the 
clofe  of  the  iirft  line  of  the  couplet : 

For  fpirits,  freed  from  mortal  laws,  with  eafe, 
Aflame  what  fexes  and  what  fhapes  they  plpal'e. 

The  paufe  is  tolerable  even  at  the  clofe  of  the 
couplet,  for  the  reafon  juft  ncJw  fuggefted,  that  in- 
verted members  require  fome  flight  paufe  in  ths 
fenfe  : 

'Twas  where  the  plane-tree  fpreads  Its  (hades  around 
The  alters  heav'd  ;  and  from  the*cruinbling  ground 


A  mighty  dragon  iliot. 


Thus 


11^  J^eaut^  of  Langiuyge,  Ch.  !X!Vlil. 

Thus  a  tniln  of  reafoning  hath  infenfibly  led  us 
to  concUifions  with  regard  to  the  mufical  paufe,  ve- 
ry diflercat  iVom  thofe  in  the  firll  ledion,  concern- 
ing the  feparating  by  a  circumftance  words  intimate- 
ly connefi:ed.  One  would  conjecture,  that  where- 
ever  words  are  feparable  by  interjecting  a  circum- 
ftance,  they  Ihould  be  equally  feparable  by  interject- 
ing a  paufe  :  but  upon  a  more  narrow  inlpe»5tion, 
the  appearance  of  analogy  vanilheth.  This  will  be 
evident  from  confidering,  that  a  paufe  in  the  fenfe 
diilinguiflies  the  different  members  of  a  period  from 
each  other  ;  whereas,  when  two  words  of  the  Came 
member  are  feparated  by  a  circumftance,  all  the  three 
make  Hill  but  one  member ;  and  therefore  that 
words  may  be  feparated  by  an  interje^led  circuih- 
llance,  though  thefe  words  are  not  feparated  by  a 
paufe  in  the  fenfe.  This  fets  the  matter  in  a  clear 
light  ;  for,  as  obferved  above,  a  mufical  paufe  is  in- 
timately conne6ted  with  a  paufe  in  the  fenfe,  and 
ought,  as  far  as  poilible,  to  be  governed  by  it  :  par- 
ticularly a  mufical  paufe  ought  never  to  be  placed 
where  a  paufe  is  e>tcluded  by  the  fenfe  ;  as,  for  ex- 
ample, between  the  adjeclive  and  following  fubllan- 
tlve,  which  make  parts  of  the  fame  idea  :  and  ftiil 
lefs  between  a  paiticle  and  the  word  that  makes  it 
fignificant. 

Abfrracling  at  pfefent  from  the  peculiarity  of  mel- 
ody arifmg  from  the  different  paufes,  it  cannot  fail 
to  be  obferved  in  general,  that  they  introduce  into 
oar  vcrfc  no  flight  degree  of  variety.  A  number  of 
uniform  lines  having  all  the  fame  paufe,  are  extreme- 
ly fatiguhig  ;  which  is  remarkable  in  French  verli- 
fication.  Thir.  imperfeftion  will  be  difcerned  by  a 
fine  ear  even  in  the  fliorted  fucceflion,  and  becomes 
iiUok'i  able  in  a  long  poem.  Pope  excels  in  tlie  va- 
riety 


Sect.  IV.  Beauty  of  Language,  113 

rlety  of  his  melody ;  which,  if  different  kinds  can  be 
compared,  is  indeed  no  lefs  perfe<5t  than  that  of  Virgil. 
From  what  is  laft  laid,  there  ought  to  be  one  ex- 
ception* IjJniformity  in  the  members  of  a  thought 
demands  eiqual  uniformity  in  the  verbal  members 
which  exprefs  that  thought.  \  When  therefore  refem* 
bling  objeds  or  things  are  estprelfed  in  a  plurality  of 
verfe-lines,  thefe  lines  in  their  ftrudure  ought  to  be 
as  uniform  as  poffible  ;  and  the  paufes  in  particular 
ought  all  of  them  to  have  the  fame  place.  Take  the 
following  examples  : 

By  foreign  hands  j[  thy  dying  eyes  were  ch)s'd. 
By  foreign  hands  ||  thy  decent  limbs  compos'd, 
By  foreign  hands  ||  thy  humble  grave  adorn'd. 

Again  t 

Bright  ns  the  fun  [j  her  eyes  the  gazers  ftrike  : 
And,  like  the  lun,  [j  they  lliine  on  all  alike. 

Speaking  of  Nature,  or  the  God  of  Nature  : 

Warms  in  the  fun  ||  refreflies  in  the  breeze. 
Glows  in  the  ftars  jj  and  bloiroms  in  the  trees  ; " 
Lives  through  all  life  ||  extends  through  ail  extent. 
Spreads  undivided  H  operates  unfpent. 

Paufes  will  detain  us  longer  than  was  forefeen  ; 
for  the  fubject  is  not  yet  exhauiled.  It  is  laid  down 
above,  that  Englifli  Heroic  verfe  admits  no  more  but 
four  capital  paufes  j  and  that  the  capital  paufe  of  ev- 
ery line  is  determined  by  the  fenfe  to  be  after  the 
fourth,  the  fifth,  the  fixtli,  or  feventh  fyllable.  That 
this  dodrine  holds  true  as  far  as  melody  alone  is  con- 
cerned, will  be  teftilied  by  every  good  ear.  At  the 
fame  time,  I  admit,  that  this  rule  may  be  varied 

where 

Vol,  ir,  H 


114  Beauty  of  Language.         Ch.  XVIIL 

^here  the  fenfe  or  expreflion  requires  a  variation^ 
and  that  fo  far  the  melody  may  juftly  be  facrificed. 
Examples  accordingly  are  not  unfrequent,  in  Milton 
cfpecially,  of  the  capital  paufe  being  after  the  firfl, 
the  fecond,  or  the  third  fyllable.  And  that  this  li- 
cence may  be  taken,  even  gracefully,  when  it  adds 
vigour  to  the  expreflion,  will  be  clear  from  the  fol- 
lowing example.  Pope,  in  his  tranflation  of  Homer, 
defcribes  a  rock  broke  off  from  a  mountain,  and 
hurling  to  the  plain,  in  the  following  words  : 

From  deep  to  fleep  the  rolling  ruin  bounds  ; 
At  every  fhock  the  crackling  wood  refounds  ; 
Still  gathering  force,  it  fmokes  ;  and  urg'd  amain, 
Whirls,  leaps,  and  thunders  down,   impetuous  to  th« 

plain  : 
There  ftops  {|  So  He£lor.     Their  whole  force  he  prov'd, 
Refiftlefs  when  he  rag'd  ;  and  when  he  ftopt,  unmov'd. 

In  the  penult  line,  the  proper  place  of  the  mufical 
paufe  is  at  the  end  of  the  fifth  fyllable  ;  but  it  en- 
livens the  expreflion  by  its  coincidence  with  that  of 
the  fenfe  at  the  end  of  the  fecond  fyllable  :  the  flop- 
ping fliort  before  the  ufual  paufe  in  the  melody,  aids 
the  impreflion  that  is  made  by  the  defcription  of  the 
flone's  fl:opping  fliort  ;  and  what  is  loft  to  the  melo- 
dy by  this  artifice,  is  more  than  compenfated  by  the 
force  that  is  added  to  the  defcription.  Milton  makes 
a  happy  ufe  of  this  licence  :  witnefs  the  following 
examples  from  his  Faradife  loft, 

-Thus  with  tiie  year 


Seafons  return,  but  not  to  me  returns 

Day  jl  or  tiie  fweet  approach  of  even  or  morn. 

Celcdial  voices  to  the  midnight-air 
Sole  li  or  refponfive  each  to  others  note. 


And 


Sect.  IV.        Beauty  of  Language,  115 

And  over  them  triumphant  Death  his  dart 
Shook  11  but  delay 'd  to  ftrike. 


-And  wild  uproar 


Stood  ruVd  ]j  flood  vaft  infinitude  confin'd. 
-And  hard'ning  in  his  ftrength 


Glories  jl  for  never  fmce  created  man 
Met  fuch  embodied  force. 

From  his  flack  hand  the  garland  wreath'd  for  Eve 
Down  dropp'd  ]|  and  all  the  faded  rofes  Ihed. 

Of  uneflential  night  receives  him  next, 
Wide  gaping  ||  and  with  utter  lofs  of  being, 
Threatens  him,  i^c. 

For  now  the  thought 


Both  of  loft  happinefs  and  lading  pain 

Torments  him  jj  round  he  throws  his  baleful  eyes,  i^c. 

If  we  confider  the  foregoing  palTages  with  refpefc 
to  melody  fingly,  the  paufes  are  undoubtedly  out  of 
their  proper  place  ;  but  being  united  with  thofe  of 
the  fenfe,  they  enforce  the  expreffion,  and  enliven 
it  g-reatly  ;  for,  as  has  been  more  than  once  obferv- 
ed,  the  beauty  of  expreffion  is  communicated  to  the 
found,  which,  by  a  natural  deception,  makes  even, 
the  melody  appear  more  perfect  than  if  the  mufical 
paufes  were  regular. 

To  explain  the  rules  of  accenting,  two  general 
obfervations  mufl  be  premifed.  riho.  firft  is.  That 
accents  have  a  docible  elfed  :  th^y  contribute  to  the 
melody,  by  giving  it  air  and  fpirit  :  they  contribute 
no  lefs  to  the  fenfe,  by  diftinguifliing  important 
words  from  others.*  I'hefe  two  efiefts  never  can 
be  feparatedj  without  impairing   the  concord  that 

ought 
*  An  accent  conCdered  with  refpeft  to  fenfe  is  tcrnicd  empkaf.s. 

H  2 


^ 


1 1 S  Beauty  of  Language.        Cm.  XVIII. 

ought Jo  fubfifl  between  the  thought  and  the  melo- 
dy :/an  accent,  for  example,  placed  on  a  low  word, 
has  tlTe  effect  to  burlefque  it,  by  giving  it  an  unnat- 
ural elevation  ;  and  the  injury  thus  done  to  thefenfe 
does  not  reft  there,  for  it  feems  alfo  to  injure  the 
melody.  Let  us  only  reflect  what  a  ridiculous  fig- 
ure a  particle  muft  make  with  an  accent  or  emphafis 
put  upon  it,  a  particle  that  of  itlelf  has  no  meaning, 
and  that  ferves  only,  like  cement,  to  unite  words  fig- 
nificant.  The  other  general  obfervation  is.  That  a 
word  of  whatever  number  of  fyllables,  is  not'  accent- 
ed upon  more  than  one  of  them.  The  reafonis,  that 
the  obje6l  is  let  in  its  beil  light  by  a  fmgle  accent,  fo 
as  to  make  more  than  one  unneceffary  for  the  fenfe  : 
and  if  another  be  added,  it  rnuft  be  for  the  found 
merely  ;  which  w'ould  be  a  tranfgrefTion  of  the  fore- 
going rule,  by  feparating  a  mufical  accent  from  that 
which  is  requifite  for  the  fenfe. 

Keeping  in  view  the  foregoing  obfcrvations,  the 
doftrine  of  accenting  Englilli  Ileroic  verfe  is  extreme- 
ly fmiple.     In  the  firfl  place,  accenting  is  confined 
to    the  long  fyllables  ;  for  a  fhort  fyllable  is  not  ca- 
pable of  an  accent.; In  the  next  place,  as  the  melody 
is  enriched  in  proportion  to  the  number  of  accents, 
every  word  that  has  a  long  fyllable  may  be  accented  ; 
unlefs  the  fenfe  interpofe,  which  rejeds  the  accenting 
a  word  that  makes  no  figure  by  its  fignification.  Ac- 
cording to  this  rule,  a  line  may  admit  five  accents  ; 
a  cafe  by  no  means  rare. 
,  — But  fuppofing  every  long  fyllable  to  be  accented, 
I  there  is,  in  every  line,  one  accent  that  make>s  a  greater 
*  "figure  than  the  reft,  being  that  which  precedes   the 
capital  paufe:     It  is  diftinguiflied   into  two  kinds  : 
one  that  is  immediately  before  the  paufe,  and  one 
that  is  divided  from   the   paufe  by  a  fliort  fyllable. 
The  former  belongs  to  lines  of  the  firfl  and  third  or- 
der J 


Sect.  IV.  Beauty  of  Language.  117 

der  ;'  the  latter  to  thofe  of  the  fecond  and  fourth. , 
Examples  of  the  firfl  kind  : 

Smooth  flow  the  waves  j]  the  zephyrs  gently  play, 
Belinda  fmil'd  ||  and  aU  the  world  was  gay. 

^He  rais'd  his  azure  wand  ||  and  thus  began. 
Examples  of  the  other  kind  : 

There  lay  tlirce  garters  |1  half  a  pair  of  gloves, 
Abd  all  the  trophies  H  ot  his  toriner  loves. 

Our  humble  province  [j  is  to  tend  the  fair, 
Not  a  lefs  pleating  [|  though  lefs  glorious  care. 

And  hew  triumphal  arches  |j  to  the  ground. 

Thefe  accents  make  different  imprefTions  on  the  mind, 
which  will  be  the  fubjed  of  a  following  fpeculation. 
.In  the  mean  time,  it  may  be  fafely  pronounced  a 
"'^capital  defed  in  the  compofition  of  verfe,  to  put  a 
low  word,  incapable  of  an  accent,  in  the  place  where 
this  accent  ihould  be  :  this  bars  the  accent  alto- 
gether ;  than  which  I  know  no  fault  more  fubver- 
five  of  the  melody,  if  it  be  not  the  barring  a  paufe 
altogether.,  I  may  add  affirmatively,  that  no  fmgle 
circunirtance  contributes  more  to  the  energy  of  verfe, 
than  to  put  an  important ,  word  where  the  accent 
fhould  be,  a  word  that  merits  a  peculiar  emphafis. 
To  ihow  the  bad  efFe£l:  of  excluding  the  capital  ac- 
cent, I  refer  the  reader  to  fome  inflances  given 
above,*  where  particles  are  feparated  by  a  paufe  from 
the  capital  words  that  make  them  fignificant  ;  and 
which  particles  ought,  for  the  fake  of  melody,  to  be 
accented,  were  they  capable  of  an  accent.  Add  to 
thefe  the  following  inltances  from  the  Eflay  on  Crit- 
icifm.  Of 

*  Page   log. 

H3 


1 1 8  Bediiiy  of  Language,         Ch.  XVIII, 

Of  leaving  what  |1  is  natural  and  fit 

Vine  44S. 

Not  yet  purg'd  ofF,  1|  of  fpleen  and  four  difdain 

/.  528. 

No  pardon  vile  \  obfcenity  fnould  find  i$ 

I  531. 

When  love  was  all  [|  an  eafy  monarch's  care 

^'  537- 

For  'tis  but  half  }|  a  judge's  taflc  to  know 

/.  562. 

'Tis  not  enough,  ij  tafte,  judgment,  learning,  join 

/.  563. 

That  only  makes  H  fuperior  fenfe  belov'd 

/.  5780 

Whofe  right  it  is,  [}  uncenfur'd,  to  be  dull 

/.  590. 

'Tis  bed  fometimes  j|  yourcenfure  to  reftrain. 

/.  597. 

When  this  fault  is  at  the  end  of  a  line  that  clofes 
a  couplet,  it  leaves  not  the  ilightefl  trace  of  melody  : 

But  of  this  frame  the  bearings,  and  the  ties. 
The  itrong  connexions,  nice  dependencies. 

In  a  Ime  expreilive  of  ^.vhat  is  humble  or  dejected. 
It  improves  the  refemblance  between  the  found  and 
fenfe  to  exclude  the  capital  accent.  This,  to  my 
tafte,  is  a  beauty  in  the  following  lines. 

In  ihl-fe  deep  folitudes  (j  and  a^Ful  cells 
The  poor  inhabitant  ||  beholds  in  vain. 

To 


Sect.  IV.  Beauty  of  Language,  tig 

To  conclude  this  article,  the  accents  are  not,  like 
the  fyllables,  confined  to  a  certain  number  :  fome 
lines  have  no  fewer  than  five,  and  there  are  lines  that 
admit  not  above  one.  This  variety,  as  we  have  feen, 
depends  entirely  on  the  diiferent  powers  of  the  com- 
ponent words  :  particles,  even  where  they  are  long 
by  pofition,  cannot  be  accented  ;  and  polyfyllables 
whatever  fpace  they  occupy,  admit  but  one  accent. 
Polyfyllables  have  another  defecl:,  that  they  gener- 
ally exclude  the  full  paufe.  It  is  fhown  above,  that 
fe>.v  polyfyllables  can  find  place  in  the  conftrudion. 
of  Englifh  verfe  ;  and  here  are  reafons  for  exclud- 
ing them,  could  they  find  place. 

I  am  now  ready  to  fulfil  a  promife  concerning  the  '^a^^^^'^ 
four  forts  of  lines  that  enter  into  Englifli  Heroic 
verfe.  That  thefe  have,  each  of  them,  a  peculiar 
melody  diftinguifhable  by  a  good  ear,  I  ventured  to 
fugged,  and  promifed  to  account  for  :  and  though 
the  fubjed  is  extremely  delicate,  I  am  not  without 
hopes  of  making  good  my  engagement.  But  fird, 
by  way  of  precaution,  I  warn  the  candid  reader 
not  to  expeO:  this  peculiarity  of  modulation  in  every 
inftance.  The  reafon  why  it  is  not  always  percep- 
tible has  been  mentioned  more  than  once,  that  the 
thought  and  expreffion  have  a  great  influence  upon 
the  melody  ;  fo  great,  as  in  many  inflances  to  make 
the  pooreft  melody  pafs  for  rich  and  fpirited,  'ITiis 
confideration  makes  me  inriH:  upon  a  conceffion  or 
two  that  will  not  be  thought  unreafonable  :  firil. 
That  the  experiment  be  tried  upon  lines  equal  with 
refped:  to  the  thought  and  cxprciTion  :  for  other- 
wife  one  ma)'^  eafily  be  milled  in  judginp;  of  the  mel-' 
ody  :  and  next.  That  thefe  lines  be  regularly  accent- 
ed before  the  paufe  ;  for  upon  a  matter  abun- 
dantly refined  in  itfelf,  I  would  not  wiliingly  be  em- 
barraUed  with  faulty  and  irregular  line^i"^ 

H4  Thefe 


120  Beauty  of  Language.         Ch.  XVIII. 

Thefc  preliminaries  adjufted,  I  begin  with  fome 
general  obfervations,  that  will  fave  repeating  the  fame 
thing  over  and  over  upon  every  example.  And,  firft, 
an  accent  fucceeded  by  a  paufe,  as  in  linds  of  the  firfl 
and  third  order,  makes  a  much  greater  figure  than 
where  the  voice  goes  on  without  a  flop. '  The  fad 
is  fo  certain,  that  no  perlon  who  has  ah^ear  can  be  at 
a  lofs  to  diftinguiih  that  accent  from  others.  '  Nor 
have  we  far  to  feek  for  the  efficient  caufe  :  the  eleva- 
tion of  an  accenting  tone  produceth  in  the  mind  a 
fimilar  elevation,  which  continues  during  the  paufe:* 
but  where  the  paufe  is  feparated  from  the  accent  by  a 
flrort  fyllable,,as  in  hnes  of  the  fecond  and  fourth 
order,  the  impreflion  made  by  the  accent  is  more 
flight  when  there  is  no  flop,  and  the  elevation  of  the 
accent  is  gone  in  a  moment  by  the  falhng  of  the 
voice  in  pronouncing  the  fliort  fyllable  that  ibllows. 
'The  paufe  alfo  is  fenfibly  affefted  by  the  polition  of 
the  accent.  In  lines  of  the  firfl  and  third  order,  the 
clofe  conjuncllon  of  the  accent  and  paufe,  occafions 
a  hidden  flop  without  preparation,  which  roufes  the^ 
mind,  and  beflows  on  the  melody  a  fpirited  air.,  ^ 
When,  on  the  other  hand,  the  paufe  is  feparated 
from  the  accent  by  a  fhort  fyllable,  which  always 
happens  in  lines  of  the  fecond  and  fourth  order,  the 
paufe  is  foft  and  gentle  :  for  this  fhort  unaccented 
fyllable,  fucceeding  one  that  is  ^accented,  mud  of 
courfe  be  pronounced  with  a  falling  voice,  which 
naturally  prepares  for  a  paufe  j  and  the  mind  falls 

gently 

*  Hence  the  livelinefs  cf  the  French  language  as  to  found,  above  the 
Eng,lifli  ;  tlic  laft  rvHahle  in  the  former  being  generally  Ion"  and  accent- 
ed, the  long  fvllabls  in  the  la'te.r  being  generally  as  far  hack  in  the 
•'A'ord  as  pofTib'e,  and  often  XKithouf  an  accent.  For  this  dilR  rcuce  I 
find  no  caufe  fo  probable  as  temperament  and  .dlfpotifion ;  the  Fiench 
b.elno  bn(k  and  liv,  !v,  the  Englifh  ledate  and  i tier ved  :  and  this,  if  it 
hold,  is  a  urcgnant  ini^ance  of  a  lefcmblaiice  betweci:  the  chaiatkr  of  SS 
people  and  that  of  their  language, 


Sect.  IV.  Beauty  of  LangViige.  1 2 1 

gently  from  the  accented  fylkble,  and  Hides  into  lell 
as  it  were  infenlibly.  Further,  the  hnes  thenilelxc^ 
derive  different  powers  from  the  pofition  of  the  paule, 
V'hich  will  thus  appera*.  \K  paufe  after  the  fourth 
fylLible  divides  the  hne  info  two  unequal  portions,  of 
which  the  larger  comes  jail  %  this  circumftance  rc- 
folving  the  line  into  an  afcending  feries,  makes  an 
imprefiion  in  pronouncing  like  that  of  alcending  ; 
and  to  this  imprefiion  contribute  the  redoubled  effort 
in  pronouncing  the  larger  portion,  which  is  lail  in 
order.  The  mind  has  a  diiiercnt  feeling  when  the 
paufe  fucceeds  the  fifth  iyllable,  which  divides  the 
line  into  two  equal  parts  :  thefe  parts,  pronounced 
with  equal  effort,  are  agreeable  by  their  uniformity. 
A  line  divided  by  a  paufe  after  the  fixth  fy liable, 
makes  an  impreffion  oppofite  to  that  firff  mentioned  : 
being  divided  into  two  unequal  portions,  of  which 
the  fliorter  is  lafl  in  order,  it  appears  like  a  flow  de- 
fending feries  ;  and  the  fecond  portion  being  pro- 
nounced with  lefs  effort  than'  the  firft,  the  diminiih- 
ed  effort  prepares  the  mind  for  reft.  And  this  prep- 
aration for  reft  is  ftill  more  fenfibly  felt  where  the 
paufe  is  after  the  feventh  fyllable,  as  in  lines  of  the 
fourth  order. 

To  apply  thefe  obfervations  is  an  eafy  talk.  A 
line  of  the  firil  order  is  of  all  the  moil  fpirlted  and 
hvely  :  the  accent,  being  followed  inftantly  by  a 
paufe,  makes  an  illulfrious  figure  :  the  elevated  tone 
of  the  accent  elevates  the  mind  :  the  mind  is  fup- 
ported  in  its  elevation  by  the  fudden  unprepared 
paufe,  which  roufes  and  animates  :  and  the  line  it- 
lelf,  reprefenting  by  its  unequal  divifion  an  alcend- 
ing  feriey,  carries  the  mjnd  {iiU  higher,  making  an 
iniprelfion  funiha-  to  that  of  going  upw^ard.  The 
Iccond  order  has  a  modulation  ferilibly  fweet,  foft, 
and  flowing  j  the  accent  is  not  {o  Iprlghtly  as  in  the  - 

former. 


2  23  Beauty  of  Language.  Ch.  XVIII, 

former,  becaufe  a  fliort  fyllable  intervenes  between  it 
and  the  paufe  :  its  elevation,  by  the  Tame  means,  van- 
iiheth  inftantaneoufiy  :  the  mind,  by  a  falling  voice, 
is  gently  prepared  for  a  (top  :  and  the  pleafure  of 
uniformity  from  the  divifion  of  the  line  into  two 
equal  parts,  is  calm  and  fweet.  The  third  order  has 
a  modulation  not  fo  eafily  expreffed  in  words  :  it  in 
part  refembles  the  fird  order,  by  the  livelinefs  of  an 
iicccnt  fucceeded  inilantly  by  a  full  paufe :  but  then 
the  elevation  occafioned  by  this  circumftance,  is  bal- 
anced in  fome  degree  by  the  remitted  effort  in  pro- 
nouncing the  fecond  portion,  v/hich  remitted  effort 
has  a  tendency  to  red.  Another  circumftance  dif« 
tinguiiiieth  it  remarkably  :  its  capital  accent  comes 
late,  being  placed  on  the  fixth  fyllable  :  and  thiS  cir- 
cumftance  beflows  on  it  an  air  of  gravity  and  fo- 
lemnity.  The  laft  order  refembles  the  fecond  in  the 
mildnefs  of  its  accent,  and  foftnefs  of  its  paufe  j  it  is 
ftill  more  folemn  than  the  third,  by  the  latenefs  of 
its  capital  accent  :  it  alfo  poifeifes  in  a  higher  degree 
than  the  third,  the  tendency  to  reft ;  and  by  that  cir- 
cumftance  is  of  all  the  bed  quahfied  for  doling  a  pe- 
riod in  the  completed  manner. 

But  thefe  are  not  all  the  didinguifning  chara^lers 
.of  the  different  orders.  Each  order  alfo  is  didin- 
guiihed  by  its  final  accent  and  paufe  :  the  unequal 
divifion  in  the  firft  order,  makes  an  impreffion  of  af- 
cending  ;  and  the  mind  at  the  clofe  is  in  the  higheft 
elevation,  v/hich  naturally  prompts  it  to  put  a  drong 
emphafis  qpon  the  concluding  fyllable,  whether  by 
raifmg  the  voice  to  a  ffiarper  tone,  or  by  exprelfrng 
the  word  in  a  fuller  tone.  This  order  accordingly 
is  of  all  the  lead  proper  for  concluding  a  period, 
where  a  cadence  is  proper  and  not  an  accent.  The 
fecond  order  being  deditute  of  the  impreffion  of  af- 
cent,  caimot  lival  the  firft  order  in  the  elevation  of 

its 


Sect.  IV.  .  BeLiuiy  of  Language,  J  23 

its  concluding  accent,  nor  confequently  in  the  dignity 
of  its  concluding  paufe  ;  for  thefe  have  a  mutual  influ- 
ence. This  order  however  with  refpecl  to  its  clofe, 
maintains  a  fuperiority  over  the  third  and  fourth  or- 
ders :  in  thefe  the  clofe  is  more  humble,  being  brought 
down  by  the  impreffion  of  defcent,  and  by  the  re- 
jnitted  effort  in  pronouncing:  confiderabiy  in  the 
third  order,  and  fliil  more  confiderabiy  in  the  lall. 
According  to  this  defcription,  the  concluding  accents 
and  paufes  of  the  four  orders  being  reduced  to  9. 
fcale,  will  form  a  del'cending  ferics  probably  in  an 
arithmetical  progreffion. 

After  what  is  faid,  will  it  be  thought  refining  too 
much  to  fuggeft,  that  the  different  orders  are  quali- 
fied for  different  purpofes,  and  that  a  poet  of  genius 
will  naturally  be  led  to  make  a  choice  accordingly  ? 
I  cannot  think  this  altogether  chimerical.  /'  As  it  ap- 
pears to  me,  the  firil  order  is  proper  for  afehtiment 
that  is  bold,  lively,  or  impetuous ;  the  third  order  is 
proper  for  what  is  grave,  folemn,  or  lofty  ;  the  fee- 
ond  for  what  is  tender,  delicate,  or  melancholy,  and 
in  general  for  all  the  fympathetic  emotions  ;  and  the 
lad  for  fubjecls  of  the  fame  kind  when  tempered  with 
any  degree  of  folemnityT'T  I  do  not  contend,  that 
any  one  order  is  fitted'for  no  other  talk  than  that 
alfigned  it ;  for  at  that  rate,  no  fort  of  melody 
would  be  left  for  accompanying  thoughts  that  have 
nothing  peculiar  in  them.  I  only  venture  to  fuggeil, 
and  I  do  it  with  diffidence,  that  each  of  the  orders  is 
peculiarly  adapted  to  certain  fubjefts,  and  better 
qualified  than  the  others  for  expreffmg  them.  The  beH: 
way  to  judge  is  by  experiment ;  and  to  avoid  the 
imputation  of  a  partial  fearch,  I  (hall  confine  my  in-> 
Itances  to  a  lingle  poem,  beginning  with  the 

Firil 


1 24  Beauty  of  La?i^uage,         Ch.  XVIIL 

Firfl  order. 

On  her  white  brenfl,  a  fparkling  crofs  (he  wore. 
Which  jews  might  kifs,  and  infidels  adore. 
Her  lively  looks  a  fprightly  mind  difclofe, 
Qiiick  as  her  eyes,  and  as  unfix'd  as  thole  ; 
Favours  to  none,  to  all  Ihc  finilcs  extendi  ; 
Oft  (he  reje<Sls,  but  never  once  offends. 
Bright  as  the  fun,  her  eyes  the  gazers  (Irike, 
And  like  the  fun,  they  Ihine  on  all  alike. 
Yet  graceful  eafe,  and  fvveetncfs  void  of  pride, 
Might  hide  her  faults,  if  belles  had  faults  to  hide  ; 
If  to  her  Ihare  fome  teniale  errors  fall, 
Look  on  her  face,  and  you'll  forget  'em  all. 

Eapt  of  ihe  Loch. 

la  accounting  for  the  remarkable  llvelinefs  of  this 
pailage,  it  will  be  acknowledged  by  every  one  who 
feas  an  ear,  that  the  melody  mufl  come  in  for  a  fharc. 
The  lines,  all  of  them,  are  of  the  firil  order  ;  a  very 
unufual  circumftance  in  the  author  of  this  poem,  fo 
eminent  for  variety  in  his  verfification.  Who  can 
doubt,  that  he  has  been  led  by  delicacy  of  taite  to 
employ  the  firll  order  preferably  to  the  others  ? 

Second  order. 

Our  humble  province  is  to  tend  the  fair. 

Not  a  lefs  pleafing,  though  lefs  gk)rious  care  ; 

To  fave  the  powder  from  too  rude  a  gale, 

I^or  let  the  imprifon'd  elfences  exhale  ; 

To  draw  frelh  colours  from  the  vernal  flow'rs  ; 

To  ileal  from  rainbows,  eje  ihey  drop  their  lliovv'rs,  ^c. 

Again : 

Oh  thoughtk-fs  mortals !  ever  blind  to  fate. 
Too  foon  dejecled,  and  too  foon  elate. 
Sudden,  thefe  honours  lliall  be  fnatch'd  away, 
And  curs'd  for  ever  this  victorious  day. 

Third 


Se c  T .  IV.  Beauty  of  Language*  1 2  j 

Third  order. 

To  fifty  chofen  fylphs,  of  fpccial  note, 

We  truft  th'  important  charge,  the  petticoat. 

Again : 

Oh  fay  what  fl ranger  caufc,  vet  unexplor'd. 
Could  make  a  gentle  belle  reject  a  lord  ? 

A  plurality  of  lines  of  the  fourth  order  v.'ould  not 
have  a  good  effect  in  fiicceiiion  ;  becaufe,  by  a  re- 
markable tendency  to  refl,  their  proper  office  is  to 
clofe  a  period.  The  reader,  therefore,  muft  be  fat- 
isfied  with  inftances  where  this  order  is  mixed  with 
others. 

Not  louder  fhrieks  to  pitying  Heaven  are  caft, 
Wiien  Hufband's  or  when  lapdog's  breathe  their  lad. 

Again  : 

Steel  could  the  works  of  mortal  pride  confound, 
And  hew  triumphal  arches  to  the  ground. 

Again : 

She  fees,  and  trembles  at  th'  approaching  ill, 
Jutt  in  the  jaws  oi  luin,  and  codille. 

Again  : 

With  earneft  eyes,  and  round  unthinking  face, 
He  firR  the  fnuff-box  cpen'd,  then  the  cafe. 

And  this  fuggefls  another  experiment,  which  is 
toTet  the  difl'erent  orders  more  directly  in  oppofition, 
by  giving  examples-  where  they  are  mixed  in  the 
fame  pafiage. 

Firfl 


120  Beauty  of  Language.         Ch.  XVIIL 

Fix  11  and  fecond  orders. 

Sol  throiigh  -white  curtains  fliot  a  tlm'rons  ray, 
And  opc'd  thofe  eyea  that  mult  eclipfe  the  day. 

Again  : 

Not  youthful  kings  in  battle  feiz'd  alive, 
Not  fcornhil  virgins  who  their  charms  furvlve. 
Not  ardent  lovers  robb'd  of  all  their  blifs, 
Not  ancient  ladies  when  refus'd  a  kifs. 
Not  tyrants  fierce  that  unrepenting  die, 
Not  Cynthia  when  her  mantua's  pin'd  awry. 
E'er  felt  fuch  rage,  refentment,  and  defpair. 
As  thou  fad  virgin  for  thy  raviili'd  hair. 

t'irfl  and  third* 

Think  what  an  equipage  thou  haft  in  air, 
And  view  with  fcorn  two  pages  and  a  chair. 

Again  : 

What  guards  the  purity  of  melting  maids, 
in  courtly  halls,  and  midnight  mafquerades, 
Safe  from  the  treach'rous  friend,  the  daring  fpark, 
Tiie  glance  by  day,  the  whifper  in  the  dark  i' 


Again : 


With  tender  billet-doux  he  lights  the  pyre, 
And  breathes  three  am'rous  fighs  to  raife  the  fire  j 
Then  profhate  falls,  and  begs  with  ardent  eyes. 
Soon  to  obtain  and  long  polfefs  the  prize. 


A^^ain : 


Jove's  thunder  roars,  heav'n  trembles  all  around, 
Blue  Neptune  ftorms,  the  bellowing  deeps  refound, 
Earth  (hakes  her  nodding  tow'rs,  the  ground  gives  way, 
And  the  pale  ghofts  ilart  at  the  iiafh  of  day  ! 

Second 


Sect,  lY.  Beauty  of  Langmge,  X27 

Second  and  third. 

Sunk  in  Tbaleflris'  arm?,  the  nymph  he  found. 
Her  eyes  dejedled,  and  her  hair  unbound. 

Again : 

On  her  heav'd  bofom  hung  her  drooping  head, 
VVliich  ,v'ith  a  llgh  Ihe  raifed  ;  and  thus  flie  faid. 

Mufing  on  the  foregoing  fubjedl,  I  begin  to  doubt 
whether  all  this  while  I  have  not  been  in  a  reverie,  and 
whether  the  fcene  before  me,  full  of  objeds  new  and 
fingular,  be  not  mere  fairy-land.  Is  there  any  truth 
in  the  appearance,  or  is  it  wholly  a  work  of  imagin?- 
tion  ?  We  cannot  doubt  of  its  reality  ;  and  we  may 
with  affiirance  pronounce,  that  fgreat  is  the  merit  of 
Englifh  Heroic  verfe  :  for  though  uniformity  pre- 
vails in  the  arrangement,  in  the  equality  of  the  lines,, 
and  in  the  refemblance  of  the  final  founds  ;  variety 
is  ftill  more  confpicuous  in  the  paufes  and  in  the  ac- 
cents, which  are  diverfified  in  a  furprifing  manner./ 
OJ:  the  beauty  that  refults  from  a  due  mixture  ofuni-' 
formity  and  variety,*  many  inftances  have  already 
occurred,  but  none  more  illuftrious  than  Englifh 
verfification  ; ;  however  rude  it  may  be  in  the  fini- 
plicity  of  its  arrangement,  it  is  highly  melodious  by 
its  paufes  and  accents,  fo  as  already  to  rival  the  moil 
perfeft  fpecies  known  in  Greece  or  R.ome  ;  and  it  is 
no  difagreeable  profpe<?:  to  find  it  fufceptibie  of  ftili 
greater  refinement, 

V 

,lJWe  proceed  to  blank  verfe,  which  hath  fo  many 

circumftances  in  common  with  rhyme,  that  iis  pecu- 
liarities may   be  brought  within  a  narrow  compr.fs. 
With  refped  to  formjvc  differs  from  rhyme   in  ru-* 
V  jediag 

*  S'^e  cbap,  g„ 


3  2^  Beauty  of  Language,        Ck.  XVIIT. 

/  jecling  the  iinc!;le  of  fimilar  lbimds|(  which  purifies  it 
from  a  childiih  pleafure,  but  this /improvement  is  a 
trifle  compared  with  what  follows.^  Our  verfe  is  ex- 
tremely cramped  by  rhyme  ;  and  the  peculiar  advan- 
^  tage  of  blank  verfe  is,  that  it  is  at  liberty  to  attend 
^  the  imagination  in  its  boldell  flights.'  Rhyme  nece.C- 
farily  divides  verfe  into  couplets ;  each  couplet  makes 
a  complete  nlufical  period,  the  parts  of  \Vhich  are  di- 
vided by  paufes,  and  the  whole  fummed  up  by  a  full 
cioie  at  the  end  :  the  melody  begins  anew  v^'ith  the 
next  couplet  :  and  in  this  manner  a  compofition  in 
rhyme  proceeds  couplet  after  couplet.  I  have  often 
had  occalion  to  mention  the  correfpondence  and  con- 
cord that  ought  to  fubfifl  between  found  and  fenfe  ; 
from  which  it  is  a  plain  inference,  that  if  a  couplet  be  a 
complete  period  with  regard  to  melody,  k  ought  regu- 
larly to  be  the  fame  with  regard  to  fenfe.  As  it  is  ex- 
tremely diihcult  to  fupport  fuch  ilrictnefs  of  compofi- 
tion, licences  are  indulged,  as  explained  above  ; 
which,  how^ever,  mufl  be  ufed  with  difcretion,  fo  as 
to  preferve  fome  degree  of  concord  between  the 
fenfe  and  the  mulic  %  there  ought  never  to  be  a  full 
clofe  in  the  fenfe  but  at  the  end  of  a  couplet  ;  and 
there  ought  alwavs  to  be  fome  paufe  in  the  fenfe  at 
the  end  of  every  'coupleT^  the  fame  period  as  to 
fenfe  may  be  extended  thVough  feveral  couplets  ; 
but  each  couplet  ought  to  contain  a  diilinft  member 
diflinguiflied  by  a  paufe  in  the  fenfe  as  well  as  in  the 
found  ;  and  the  wl)oIe  ought  to  be  clofed  with  a 
complete  cadence.*  '  Rules  fuch  as  thefe,  muft  con- 
fine rhyme  within  very  narrow  bounds  :  a  thought 
of  any  extent,  cannot   be  reduced   within  its   com- 

pafs 

*  Tlii"!  i>il."  is  quits  nej^lcRed  in  I'lciir.ii  veifificatinn.  Even  Boileau 
mal<cs  no  difiicult.v,  to  cloCe  one  fubjc/it  with  the  ilrO  line  of  a  couplet, 
pnrl  ti>  bf:e,ifi  a  new  fiibji  fl  viiih  the  Tecond.  Such  licence,  however 
l'<mc1ii)ned  by  pratiice,  is  unpleafant  by  the  diCcoidunce  btlvvcen  the 
paufe.  of  tilt,  fcnfc  and  of  the  melody. 


Sect.  IV.         Beauty  of  Language,  129 

pafs  :  the  fenfe  mufl  be  curtailed  and  broken  into 
parts,  to  make  it  fquare  with  the  curtnefs  of  the  mel- 
ody ;  and  befide,  fliort  periods  afford  no  latitude  for 
inverfiofiy 

I  have'examined  this  point  with  the  jftridler  accu- 
racy, in  order  to  give  a  jull  notion  of  blank  verfe  ; 
and  to  fhow,  that  a  flight  difference  in  form  may  pro- 
duce a  great  difference  in  fubflance.  Blank  verfe 
has  the  fame  paufes  and  accents  with  rhymed  and  a 
paufe  at  the  end  of  every  line,  like  what  concludes 
the  firft  line  of  a  couplet/  In  a  word,  the  rules  of 
melody  in  blank  verfe,  are  the  fame  that  obtain  with 
refpecl  to  the  firft  line  of  a  couplet,  but  being  dif- 
engaged  from  rhyme,  or  from  couplets,  there  is  ac- 
.cefii  to  make  every  line  run  into  another,  precifely  as 
to  make  the  firft  line  of  a  couplet  run  into  the  fec- 
ond.  ■  There  muft  be  a  mufical  paufe  at  the  end  of 
GvtYj  line  ;  but  this  paufe  is  fo  flight  as  not  to  re- 
quire a  paufe  in  the  fenfe  :  and  accordingly  the  fenfe 
may  be  carried  on  with  or  without  paufes,  till  a  pe- 
riod of  the  utmoft  extent  be  completed  by  a  full 
clofe  both  in  the  fenfe  and  the  found;:  there  is  no  re- 
ftraint,  other  than  that  this  full  cfofe  be  at  the  end 
of  a  line  ;  and  this  reftraint  is  neceffary,  in  order  to 
pref^rve  a  coincidence  between  fenfe  and  found, 
which  ought  to  be  aimed  at  in  general,  and  is  in- 
difpenfable  in  the  cafe  of  a  full  clofe,  becaufe  it  has 
a  (Iriking  eifed.  Hence  the  fitnefs  of  blank  verfe 
for  inverfion  :  and  confequently  the  luftre  of  its 
paufes  and  accents  ;  for  which,  as  obferved  above, 
there  is  greater  fcope  in  inverfion,  than  when  word's 
run  in  their  natural  order. 

In  the  fecond  fetlion  of  this  chapter  it  isfhown,  that 
nothing  contributes  more  than  inverfion  to  the  force 
and  elevation  of  language :  the  couplets  of  rhyme  con- 
fine 

Vol,  IL  I 


U^u 


130  Beauij  of  Language,  Ch.  XVIII. 

fine  inverfion  within  narrow  limits  j  nor  would  the 
elevation  of  inverfion,  were  there  accefs  for  it  in 
rhyme,  readily  accord  with  the  humbler  tone  of  that 
fort  of  verfe. ;  It  is  univerfally  agreed,  that  the  loft- 
inefs  of  Milton's  ftyle  fupports  admirably  the  fub- 
limity  of  his  fubject  ;  and  it  is  nor  lefs  certain,  that 
the  loftlnefs  of  his  ftyle  arifes  chiefly  from  inverfion. 
Shakefpear  deals  little  in  inverfion  ;  but  his  blank 
verfe  being  a  fort  of  meafured  profe,  is  perfectly  well 
adapted  to  the  ftage,  where  laboured  inverfion  is 
highly  improper,  becaufe  in  dialogue  it  never  can  be 
natural. 

^  /  Hitherto  I  have  confidered  that  fuperior  power  of 
^x;^expreffion  which  verfe  acquires  by  laying  afide  rhyme. 
/But  this  is  not  the  only  ground  for  preferring  blank 
verfe  :  it  has  anothe.r  preferable  quality  not  lefs  fig- 
nal ;  and  that  is, -a  more  extenfive  and  more  com- 
plete melody.  Its  mufic  is  not,  like  that  of  rhyme, 
confined  to  a  fingle  couplet  ;  but  takes  in  a  great 
compafs,  fo  as  in  fome  meafure  to  rival  mufic  prop- 
erly fo  called.  ^  The  interval  between  its  cadences 
may  be  long  or  fhort  at  pleafure  ;  and,  by  that 
means,  its  melody,  with  refpedl  both  to  richnefs  and 
variety,  is  fuperior  far  to  that  of  rhyme,  and  fupe- 
rior even  to  that  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  Hexameter.; 
Of  this  obfervation  no  perfon  can  doubt  who  is  ac^ 
quainted  with  the  Paradife  Loft :  in  which  work 
there  are  indeed  many  carelefs  lines  ;  but  at  every 
turn  the  richeft  melody  as  well  as  the  fublimeft  fenti- 
ments  are  confpicuous.  Take  the  following  fpecimen. 

Now  morn  licr  rofy  (leps  in  tlT  eaftern  clime 
Advancing,  fovv'd  the  earth  with  orient  pearl  : 
When  Adam  wak'd,  fo  cuftom'd,  for  his  ileep 
Was  aery  light  from  pure  digeltion  bred 
And  temp'rate  vapours  bland,  which  th'  only  found 

Of 


Sect.  IV.  Beauty  of  Language,  132: 

Of  leaves  and  fuming  rills,   Aurora's  fan. 
Lightly  difpers'd,  and  the  flirili  matin  fong 
Of  birds  on  every  bough  \  fo  much  the  more 
His  wonder  was  to  find  unwaken'd.  Eve 
With  trelTes  difcompos'd,  and  glowing  check, 
As  through  unquiet  reft  :  he  on  his  fide 
Leaning  half-rais'd,  with  looks  of  cordial  love 
Hung  over  her  enamour'd,  and  beheld 
Beauty,  which,  whether  waking  or  afieep, 
Shot  forth  peculiar  graces  ;  then  with  voice 
Mild,  as'. when  Zephyrus  on  Flora  breathes, 
Her  hand  foft  touching,  whifper'd  thus.     Awake, 
My  fairefl,  my  efpous'd,  my  lateft  found. 
Heaven's  lall;  bcfl:  gift,  my  ever- new  delight, 
Awake  ;  the  morning  fliines,  and  the  frtlh  f^eld 
Calls  us  :  we  lofe  the  prime,  to  mark  how  fpring 
Our  tended  plants,  how  blows  the  citron  grove, 
What  drops  the  myrrh,   and  what  the  balmy  reed. 
How  nature  paints  her  colours,  how  the  bee 
Sits  on  the  bloom  extradling  liquid  fweet. 

Booh  5.  /.  I. 

Comparing  Latin  Hexameter  with  Englifli  Heroic 
thyme,  the  former  has  obvioufly  the  advantage  in 
the  following  particulars.     It  is  greatly  preferable  as    / 
to  arrangement,  by  the  latitude  it  admits  i;i  placing 
the  long  and  fhort  fyllabTes.     Secondly,  -the  length    ^ 
of  an  Hexameter  line  hath  a  majeilic  air  :'*ours,  by  />^ 
its  fhortnefs,  is  indeed    more  biifk  and   lively,  but 
much  lefs  fitted  for  the  fublime. ;'  And,  thirdly,  the     ^ 
long   high-founding  words  that  Hexameter  admits, 
add  greatly  to  its  majefly.     To  compenfate  thefe  ad-       / 
vantages,  Englifh  rhyme  poflefles  a  greater  number     ^ 
and   greater  variety  both  of  paufes  and  of  accents. 
Thefe  two  forts  of  verfe  Hand  indeed  pretty  much  in 
oppofition  :  in  Hexameter,  great  variety  of  arrange- 
ment, none   in  the  paufes   nor  accents  ;  in  Englifli 
rhyme,  great  variety  in  the  paufes  and  accents,  very 
little  in  the  arrangement. 

I  2  In 


Mhiwhi:^. 


132  Beauty  of  Lmiguage.        Ch.  XVIII* 

111  blank  verfe  are  united,  in  a  good  meafure,  the 
'/'^r'^everal   properties  of  Latin  Hexameter  and  Englllh 
^  ^L/"^"'*'^hyme  ;  and  it  noflefles  befide  many  fignal  proper- 
^liL   I       ^^^^  of  its  own.   (It  is  not  confined,  like  Hexameter, 
'       by  a  full  clofe  attlie  end  of  every  line^  nor,  like 
^  rhyme,  by  a  full  clofe  at  the  end  of  every  couplet. 
/Its  conftrudion,  which  admits  the  lines  to  run  into 
each  other,  gives  it  a  flill  greater  maiefty  than  arifes 
from  the  length  of  a  Hexameter  lineTj  ^y  the  fame 
means,  it  admits  inverfion  even  bey ona 'he  Latin  or 
Greek   Hexamete^  for  thefe  fulFer  fome  confine- 
ment by  the  regular  clofes   at  the  end  of  every  line, 
C^-^'ii^  mufic  it  is  illuflrious  above  all/  the  melody  of 
^    nexameter  verfe  is  circumfcribed  to  a  line  ;  and  of 
Englifh  rhyme,  to  a  couplet  :  the  melody  of  blank 
verfe  is  under  no  confinement,  but  enjoys  the  utmoft 
privilege,  of  which   melody  of  verfe  is   fufceptible  ; 
which  is,  to  run  hand  in  hand  with  the  fenfe.     In  a 
word,  blank  verfe  is  fuperior  to  Hexameter  in  many 
articles  ;  and  infenor  to  it  in  none,  fave  in  the  free- 
dom of  arrangement,  and  in  the  ufe  of  long  words. 

(yf^u^<i^yi^c  T^    In  French  Heroic  verfe,  there  are  found,  on  the 
contrary,  all  the  defetls  of  Latin  Hexameter  and 
'r"  Englifh  rhyme,  without  the  beauties  of  either  :  fub- 

jeded  to  the  bondage  of  rhyme,  and  to  the  full-  clofe 
at  the  end  of  every  couplet,  it  is  alfo  extremely  fa- 
tiguing by  uniformity  in  its  paufes  and  accents  :  the 
line  invariably  is  divided  by  the  paufe  into  two  equal 
parts,  and  the  accent  is  invariably  placed  before  the 
paufe. 

Jeune  et  vaillant  heros  |!  dont  1:?i  haute  fagefTc 
N'elt  point  la  iruit  tardit  j|  l1  une  lente  vieiUelfe, 

Here  every  circumftance  contributes  to  a  tirefcm* 
uniformity  :  a  conflant  return  of  the  fame  paufe  and 


OJf 


Sect,  IV.  Beauty  of  Langusige*  13 ^ 

of  the  fame  accent,  as  well  as  an  equal  dlvlfion  of  ev- 
ery line  ;  which  fatigue  the  ear  without  intermiffion 
or  change.  I  cannot  fet  this  matter  in  a  better  light, 
than  by  prefenting  to  the  reader  a  French  tranflation 
of  the  following  paffage  of  Milton  : 

Two  of  far  nobler  fhape,  €re£l  and  tall, 
Godlike  ere£t,  with  native  honour  clad. 
In  naked  niajelty,  feem'd  lords  of  all  : 
And  worthy  feem'd  ;  for  in  their  looks  divine 
The  image  of  their  glorious  maker  (hone 
Truth,  wifdom,  fanftitude  fevere  and  pure  ; 
Severe,  but  in  true  filial  freedom  ptac'd  ; 
Whence  true  authority  in  men  :  though  both 
Not  equal,  as  their  fex  not  equal  feem'd  ; 
For  contemplation  he  and  valour  torm'd, 
For  foltneCs  (lie  and  fweet  attraflive  grace  ; 
He  for  God  only,  fhe  for  God  in  him. 

Were  the  paufes  of  the  fenfe  and  found  in  this  paf- 
fage  but  a  little  better  alforted,  nothing  in  verfe 
could  be  more  melodious.  In  general,  the  jreat  de- 
feft  ofMiIton*s  verfification,  in  other  refpefts  admir- 
able, is  the  want  of  coincidence  between  the  paufes 
of  the  fenfe  and  found. 

The  tranflation  is  in  the  followincr  words  : 


o 


Ce  lieux  c'elicieux,  ce  paradis  charmant, 
Rc(;oit  deux  obiets  fon  plus  bel  ornement  ; 
Leur  port  majeftiieux,  et  leur  demarche  aliicre, 
Semb'e  leur  meriter  fur  la  nature  entiere 
Ce  droit  de  commander  que  Dieu  leur  a  donne, 
Sur  leur  augufte  front  de  gloire  couronne. 
Du  fouverain  du  ciel  drillc  la  refemblance  ; 
Dans  leur  fimples  regards  e  laite  I'itmocence, 
L'adorablc  candeur,  I'aimable  veiiie. 
La  raifon,  la  fagelTe,  ct  la  severiie. 

Qu- 
ia 


X34  Beauty  of  Language.        Ch.  XVIII. 

Qi^i'  adoucit  la  prudence,  et  cet  air  de  droiture 
Du  vifage  dcs  rois  refptftable  parure. 
Ces  dcUK  objets  divin  n'ont  pas  les  metnes  traits, 
lis  paroiiieni  foni.es,  quoique  tous  deux  parfaits  ; 
L'un  pour  la  majelie,  la  force,  et  la  noblefTe  ; 
L'autrc  puir  la  douceur,  la  grace,  et  la  tendrefTe  ; 
Celui-ci  pourDieu  feul,  I'autre  pour  rhomme  encor. 

Here  the  fenfe  is  fairly  tranflated,  the  words  are  of 
equal  power,  and  yet  how  inferior  the  melody  ! 

Many  attempts  have  been  made  to  introduce  Hex- 
ameter verfe  into  the  living  languages,  but  without 
fuccefs.  The  Englifh  language,  I  am  inclined  to  think, 
is  not  fufceptible  of  this  melody  :  and  my  reafons  are 
thefe.  Firft,  the  polyfyllables  in  Latin  and  Greek 
are  finely  diverfified  by  long  and  Ihort  fyllables,  a 
circumftance  that  qualifies  them  for  the  melody  of 
Hexameter  verfe  :  ours  are  extremely  ill  qualified  for 
that  fervice,  becaufe  they  fuperabound  in  ihort  fylla- 
bles. Secondly,  the  bulk  of  our  monofyllables  are 
arbitrary  with  regard  to  length,  which  is  an  unlucky 
circumftance  in  Hexameter  :  for  although  cuilom,  as 
obferved  above,  may  render  familiar  a  long  or  a  fhort 
pronunciation  of  the  fame  word,  yet  the  mind  wav- 
ering between  the  two  founds,  cannot  be  lb  much 
afteiled  with  either,  as  with  a  word  that  hath  always 
the  fame  found  ;  and  for  that  reafon,  arbitrary  founds 
are  ill  fitted  for  a  melody  which  is  chiefly  fupported 
by  quantity.  In  Latin  and  Greek  Hexameter,  inva- 
riable founds  diredl:  and  afcertain  the  melody.  Eng- 
lifh Hexameter  would  be  deftitute  of  melody,  unlefs 
by  artful  pronunciation  ;  becaufe  of  neceflity  the 
bulk  of  its  founds  mufl  be  arbitrary.  The  pronun- 
ciation is  eafy  in  a  fimple  movement  of  alternate  long 
and  fliort  fyllables  ;  but  would  be  perplexing  and 
unpleafant  in  the  diverfified  movement  of  Hexame- 
ter verfe,  Rhym.e 


5e c  T .  I V.  Beauty  of  Language,  i  3  5 

.  Rhyme  makes  fo  great  a  figure  in  modern  poetry, 
as  to  deferve  a  folemn  trial.  I  have  for  that  reaibn  re- 
ferved  it  to  be  examined  with  deUberation  ;  in  order 
to  difcover,  if  I  can,  its  pecuHar  beauties,  and  its  de- 
gree of  merit.  The  firft  view  of  this  fuDjed  leads 
naturally  to  the  following  refleclion  :  "  That  rhyme 
having  no  relation  to  fentiment,  nor  aily  efFe£l  upon 
the  ear  other  than  a  mere  jingle,  ought  to  be  baniflied 
all  compofitions  of  any  dignity,  as  affording  but  a 
trifling  and  childiih  pleafurev--/  It  will  alfo  be  ob- 
ferved,  "  That  a  jingle  of  words  hath  in  fome  meaf- 
ure  a  ludicrous  effect  ;  witnefs  the  double  rhymes 
of  Hudibras,  which  contribute  no  fmall  fliare  to  its 
drollery  :  that  in  a  ferious  work  this  ludicrous  effecl 
would  be  equally  remarkable,  were  it  not  obfcured 
by  the  prevailing  gravity  of  the  fubjed  :  that  having 
however  a  conftant  tendency  to  give  a  ludicrous  air 
to  the  compofition,  more  than  ordinary  fire  is  requi- 
fite  to  fupport  the  dignity  of  the  fentiments  againft 
fuch  an  undermining  antagonifl.*" 

Thefe  arguments  are  fpecious,  and  have  undoubt- 
edly fome  weight.  Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  it  ought  to 
beconfidered,  that  in  modern  tongues  rhyme  has  be- 
come univerfal  amorfg  men  as  well  as  children  ;  and 
that  it  cannot  have  fuch  a  currency  without  fome 
foundation  in  human  nature.  In  fa£t,  It  has  been 
fuccefsfully  employ'd  by  poefs"  of  genius,  in  their  fe- 
rious and  grave  compofitions,^  as  well  as  in  thole 
which  are  more  light  and  airy.  ■  Here  in  weighing- 
authority  againfl  argument,  thfe  fcales  feem  to  be 
upon  a  level  :  and  therefore,  to  come  at  any  thing 
decifive,  we  muft  pierce  a  little  deeper. 

Mufic  has  great  power  over  the  foul  ;  and  may 
fuccefsfully  be  employ'd  to  inflame  or  foothe  pafiions, 

if 

*  Vofllns,  De pocmatum  cantu,  p.  26,  fays,  "  Nihil  seque  gravitati 
•utiopis  afficit,  quam  in  fono  ludere  fyllabarum." 

I4 


13^  Beauty  of  Language,  Ch.  XVIIL 

if  not  aftually  to  raife  them.  /  A  fingle  found,  how- 
ever fweet,  is  not  mufic  ;  but  a  fingle  found,  repeat- 
ed after  intervals,  may  have  the  eft'ecl  to  roufe  atten- 
tion, and  to  keep  the  hearer  awake  :  and  a  variety 
of  fimilar  founds  fucceeding  each  other  after  regular 
intervals,  mull  have  a  llill  Itronger  effedt.  This  con- 
fideration  is  applicable  to  rhyme,  w-hich  connects 
two  verfe-lines  by  making  them  clofe  with  two  words 
fmnilar  in  found.  And  confidering  attentively  the 
mufical  effect  of  a  couplet,  we  find,  that  it  roufes 
the  mind,  and  produceth  an  emotion  moderately  gay 
without  dignity  or  elevation  :  like  the  murmuring 
of  a  brook  ghding  through  pebbles,  it  calms  the 
mind  when  perturbed,  and  gently  raifes  it  when  funk, ' 
Thefe  effeds  are  fcarce  perceived  when  the  whole 
poem  is  in  rhyme  ;  but  are  extremely  remarkable 
by  contraft,  in  the  couplets  that  clofe  the  feveral  ads 
of  our  later  tragedies  :  the  tone  of  the  mind  is  fen- 
iibly  varied  by  them,  from  anguilh,  diftrefs,  or  mel- 
s,ncholy,  to  fome  degree  of  eafe  and  alacrity.  For 
the  truth  of  this  obfervation,  I  appeal  to  the  fpeech 
of  Jane  Shore  in  the  fourth  a6l,  when  her  doom  was 
pronounced  by  Glo'fler  ;»  to  the  fpeech  of  Lady  Jane 
Gray  at  the  end  of  the  hrit  ad:  ;  and  to  that  of  Cal- 
ifta,  in  the  Fair  Penitent,  when  fhe  leaves  the  ftage, 
about  the  middle  of  the  third  ad.  The  fpeech  of 
Alicia,  at  the  clofe  of  the  fourth  ad  of  Jane  Shore, 
puts  the  matter  beyond  doubt  :  in  a  fcene  of  deep 
diftrefs,  the  rhymes  which  finiih  the  ad,  produce  a 
certain  gaiety  and  cheerfulnefs,  far  from  according 
with  the  tone  of  the  paifion  : 

JJic'/a.  For  ever  ?   Oh  !   For  ever  ! 
Oh  !   who  can  bear  to  be  a  wretch  for  ever  ! 
My  riv.ll  too  !   his  lail:  thoughts  hung  on  her  : 
An^l,  as  he  parted,  left  a  bleding  tor  her  : 
Shall  Ihe  be  bleiVd,  and  I  be  curs'd,  for  ever  ! 

No; 


Sect.  IV.  Beauty  of  Language,  i^'j 

No  ;  fince  her  fatal  beauty  was  the  canfe 
Of  all  my  fufF'rings,  let  her  Ihare  my  pains  ; 
Let  her,  like  me  of  ev'ry  joy  forlorn, 
Devote  the  hour  when  fiich  a  wretch  was  born  : 
Like  me  to  defarts  and  to  darknefs  run. 
Abhor  the  day,  and  curfe  the  golden  fun  ; 
Cad  ev'ry  good  and  ev'ry  hope  behind  ; 
Deteit  the  works  of  nature,  loathe  mankind  : 
Like  me  with  cries  diftra^ted  fill  the  air,  ^ 

Tear  her  poor  bofom,  and  her  trantic  hair,       > 
And  prove  the  torments  of  the  lad  de:^ir.       J 

Having  defcribed,  the  beft  way  I  can,  the  impref- 
fion  that  rhyme  makes  on  the  mind  ;  I  proceed  to 
examine  whether  there  be  any  fiibje6>s  to  which 
rhyme  is  peculiarly  adapted,  and  for  what  fubjedls  it 
is  im.proper.  Grand  and  lofty  fubjecls,  which  have 
a  powerful  influence,  claim  precedence  in  this  inquiry. 
In  the  chapter  of  Grandeur  and  Sublimity  it  is  eftab- 
lifhed,'that  a  grand  or  fublime  objed,  infpires  a  warm 
enthufiaffcic  emotion  difdaining  llridl  regularity  and 
order  ;  which  emotion  is  very  different  from  that  in- 
fpired  by  the  moderately  enlivening  mufic  of  rhyme. 
Suppofing  then  an  elevated  fubjeft  to  be  expreffed  in 
rhyme,  what  mmft  be  the  effect  ?  The  intimate 
union  of  the  mufic  with  the  fubjeft,  produces  an  inti- 
mate union  of  their  emotions  ?  one  infpired  by  the 
fubjeft,  which  tends  to  elevate  and  expand  the  mind  ; 
and  one  infpired  by  the  mufic,  which,  confining  the 
mind  vs^ithin  the  narrow  limits  of  regular  cadence 
and  fimilar  found,  tends  to  prevent  all  elevation  above 
its  own  pitch.  Emotions  fo  little  concordant,  cannot 
in  union  have  a  happy  effect. 

But  it  is  fcarce  neceffary  to  reafon  upon  a  cafe  that 
never  did,  and  probably  never  will  happen,  viz.  an 
important  fubjed:  clothed  in  rhyme,  and  yet  fupport- 
ed  in  its  utniolt  elevation.  A  happy  thought  or 
warm  exprcllion,  ,may  at  times  give  a  fudden  bound 

upv;ard  ; 


13S  Beauty  df  Language,  Ch.  XVIIL 

upward  ;  but  it  requires  a  genius  greater  than  has 
hitherto  exiiied,  to  fupport  a  poem  of  any  length  in  a 
tone  elevated  much  above  that  of  the  melody.  Taffo 
and  Ariofto  ought  not  to  be  made  exceptions,  and 
ftill  lefs  Voltaire.  And  after  all,  where  the  poet  has 
the  dead  weight  of  rhyme  conflantly  to  if  ruggle  with, 
how  can  we  exped  an  uniform  elevation  in  a  high 
pitch  ;  v/hen  fuch  elevation  with  all  the  fupport  it 
can  receive  from  language,  requires  the  utmolf  effort 
of  the  human  o-enius  ? 

But  now,  admitting  rhyme  to  be  an  unfit  drefs  for 
grand  and  lofty  images  ;  it  has  one  advantage  how- 
ever, which  is,  to  raife  a  low  fubjecl  to  its  own 
degree  of  elevation.  Addifon*  obferves,  "  That 
rhyme,  without  any  other  affiftance,  throws  the  lan- 
guage off  from  profe,  and  very  often  makes  an  in- 
different phrafe  pafs  unregarded  ;  but  where  the 
verfe  is  not  built  upon  rhymes,  there,  pomp  of  found 
and  energy  of  expreffion  are  indifpenfably  neceffary, 
to  fupport  the  ftyle,  and  keep  it  from  falling  into  the 
flatnefs  of  profe.'*  This  effect  of  rhyme,  is  remark- 
able in  French  verfe  :  which,  being  fimple,  atid  little 
qualified  for  inverfion,  readily  fmks  down  to  profe 
where  not  artificially  fupported  :  rhyme  is  therefore 
indifpenfable  in  French  tragedy,  and  may  be  proper 
even  in  French  comedy.  Voltaire  f  affigns  that  very 
reafon  for  adhering  to  rhyme  in  thefe  compofitions. 
He  indeed  candidly  owns,  that,  even  with  the  fup- 
port of  rhyme,  the  tragedies  of  his  country  are  little 
better  than  converfation-pieces  ;  which  feems  to  in- 
fer, that  the  French  language  is  weak,  and  an  im- 
proper drefs  for  any  grand  fubject.  Voltaire  was 
fenfible  of  the  imperfeflion  ;  and  yet  Voltaire  at- 
tempted an  epic  poem  in  that  language. 

The 

*  SpcAalor,  No.  285. 

+  Preface  to  his  OEdipus.  and  in  his  difcoutfe  upon  tragedy,   prefixed 
to  t'i'J  tr;i3C(ly  oi  Brutus, 


Sect.  IV.  Beauty  of  Language*  13^ 

The  cheering  and  enlivening  power  of  rhyme,  is 
ftill  more  remarkable  in  poems  of  fhort  lines,  where 
the  rhymes  return  upon  the  ear  in  a  quick  fuccef- 
fion  ;  for  which  reafon  rhyme  is  perfedly  well  adapt- 
ed to  gay,  light,  and  airy  fubjeds.  Witnefs  the  fol- 
lowing : 

O  the  pleafing,  pleafmg  anguiHi, 
When  we  love  and  when  we  languifh  ? 

Wilhes  rifing, 

Thoughts  furprifing, 

Pleufure  conning, 

Clianiis  tranfporting. 

Fancy  viewing, 

Joys  enfuing, 

O  the  pleafing,  pleafing  anguIHi  ! 

Rofamondf  a6l  i.fc.  2, 

For  that  reafon,  fuch  frequent  rhymes  are  very  im- 
proper for  any  levere  or  ferious  pafTion  :  the  ditfo-. 
nance  between  the  fubjecl  and  the  melody  is  very  fen- 
fibly  felt.  I  Witnefs  the  following  : 

Ardito  ti  renda, 

T'accenda 

Di  fdegno 

D'un  figlio 

II  periglio 

T)\n\  regno 

L'amor- 
E'dolce  ad  iin'alma 

Che  afpetta 

Vendetta 
II  perder  la  calma 

Fra  Tire  del  cor. 

Metajiafio.     Artaferfe^  aB  3.  fc.  3. 


A^ain  : 


Now  under  hanging  mountains, 
Bellde  the  tall  of  fountains, 


Or 


14<3  Beauty  ofLanpmie,         Ch.  XVIIL 

Or  where  Hebrus  wanders. 
Rolling  ill  meanders. 
All  alone. 

Unheard,  unknown. 
He  makes  his  moan. 
And  calls  her  glioll, 
For  ever,  ever,  ever  loft  ; 
Now  with  furies  furrounded, 
Defpi-irino;,  confounded. 
He  trembLs,  he  glows, 
Amidii  Rhodope's  fnows. 

Pope,  Ode  on  MuftCj  h  97. 

Rhyme  is  not  lefs  unfit  for  anguifii  or  deep  diftrefs, 
than  for  fubjeds  elevated  and  lofty  ;  and  for  that 
reafon  has  been  long  difufed  jn  the  EngHfli  and  Ital- 
ian tragedy.;  In  a  work  where  the  fubject  is  ferious 
though  not  elevated,  rhyme  has  not  a  good  elfect; ,, 
becaufe  the  airinefs  of  the  melody  agrees  not  with 
the  gravity  of  the  fubjeft  :  the  Effliy  on  Man,  which 
treats  a  fubjed  great  and  important,  would  make  a 
better  figure  in  blank  verfe.  Sportive  love,  mirth, 
gaiety,  humour,  and  ridicule,  are  the  province  of 
rhyme.  The  boundaries  afligned  it  by  nature,  were 
extended  in  barbarous  and  illiterate  ages ;  and  in  its 
ufurpations  it  has  long  been  protected  by  cuftom : 
but  tafte  in  the  fine  arts,  as  well  as  in  morals,  im- 
proves daily ;  and  m.akes  a  progrefs  toward  perfec- 
tion, flow  indeed  but  uniform  ;  and  there  is  no  rea- 
fon to  doubt,  that  rhyme,  In  Britain,  will  in  time  be 
forcM  to  abandon  its  unjuft  conquefts,  and  to  confine 
itfelf  within  its  natural  Hmits. 

Having  faid  what  occurred  upon  rhyme,  I  clofe  the 
fecHon  with  a  general  obfervation.  That  the  melody 
of  verfe  fo  powerfully  enchants  the  mind,  as  to  draw 
a  veil  over  very  grofs  faults  and  imperfedlons.  "  Of 
this  power  a  ftronger  example  cannot  be  given  than 

the 


Sect.  IV.        Beaufy  of  La-agwge,  1 4 1 

the  epifodeof  Ariftjeus,  which  clofes  the  fourth  book 
of  the  Georgics.  To  renew  a  flock  of  bees  when  the 
former  is  loft,  Virgil  alferts,  that  they  may  be  pro* 
duced  in  the  entrails  of  a  bullock,  fiain  and  managed 
in  a  certain  manner.  This  leads  him  to  fay  how  this 
flrange  receit  was  invented  ;  which  is  as  follows.  Ari- 
flaeus  having  loft  his  bees  by  difeafe  and  famine,  never 
dreams  of  employing  the  ordinary  means  for  obtain- 
ing a  new  ftock :  but,  like  a  froward  child,  complains 
heavily  to  hts  mother  Cyrene,  a  water-nymph.  She 
advifes  him  to  confult  Proteus,  a  fea-god,  not  how  he 
was  to  obtain  a  new  ftock,  but  only  by  what  fatality 
he  had  loft  his  former  ftock :  adding,  that  violence 
"was  neceflary,  becaufe  Proteus  would  lay  nothing  vol- 
untarily. Ariftasus,  fatisfied  with  this  advice,  though 
it  gave  him  no  profped  of  repairing  his  iofs,  proceeds 
to  execution.  Proteus  is  caught  fteeping,  bound 
■with  cords,  and  compelled  to  fpeak.  He  declares, 
that  Ariftssus  was  puniftied  with  the  Icfs  of  his  bees, 
for  attempting  the  chaftity  of  Euridice  the  wife  of 
Orpheus  ;  ftie  having  he^n  ft'ung  to  death  by  a  fer- 
pent  in  flying  his  embraces.  Froteus,  whole  fullen* 
nefs  ought  to  have  been  converted  into  wrath  by  the 
lough  treatment  he  met  with,  becomes  on  a  fudden 
courteous  and  communicative.  He  gives  the  whole 
hiftory  of  the  expedition  to  hell  which  Orpheus  un- 
dertook in  order  to  recover  his  fpoufe  :  a  very  en- 
tertaining ftory,  but  without  the  leaft  relation  to  what 
was  in  view.  Ariftasus,  returning  to  his  mother,  is 
advifed  to  deprecate  by  facrifices  the  wrath  of  Or- 
pheus, who  was  now  dead.  A  bullock  is  facrificed, 
and  out  of  the  entrails  fpring  miraciiloufly  a  fwarni 
ot  bees.  Does  it  follov/,  that  the  fame  may  be  ob- 
tained without  a  miracle,  aS  is  ftippofed  in  the 
icceit  ? 

A  LIST 


142  Beauty  of  Language.         Ch.  XVIII. 

A    LIST   OF   THE   DIFFERENT  FEET,    AND  OF  THEIR 

NAMES, 

1.  Pyrrhichius,  confifls  of  two  fliort  fyllables. 
Examples  :  Dens,  given,  cannot,  hillock,  running, 

2.  Spondeus  confifts  of  two  long  fyllables  :  omnes^ 
pojfefs,  forewarn,  mankind,  fometime. 

3.  LvMTiUS,  compofed  of  a  fhort  and  a  long  :  pios, 
intent,  degree,  appear,  confcnt,  repent  demand,  re' 
port,  fufped:,  ajfront,  event. 

4.  Trochaeus,  or  Choreus,  a  long  and  fliort : 
fcrvat,   whereby,  after,   legal,  meafure,  burden^ 

holy,  lofty, 

5.  Tribrachys,  three  fliort :    melius,  property. 

6.  MoLossus,  three  long  :  deleElant. 

7.  Anapaestus,  two  fliort  and  a  long  :  animos, 
condefcend,  apprehend,  overheard,  acquiefce,  im- 
mature,  overcharge,  ferenade,  opportune. 

8.  Dactylus,  a  long  and  two  fliort  :  carmina, 
evident,  excellence,  eftimate,  wonderful,  altitude ^ 
burdened,  minijier,  tenement. 

9.  Bacchius,  a  fliort  and  two  long  :  dolor es. 

10.  Hyppobacchius  or  Antibacchius,  two  long 
and  a  fliort  :  pelluntur. 

11.  Creticus,  or  Amphimacer,  a  fliort  fyllable 
between  two  long  :  infito,  afternoon. 

12.  Amphibrachys,  a  long  fyllable  between  two 
fliort :  honore,  confider,  imprudent,  procedure,  at- 
tended. 


Sect.  IV.  Beauty  of  L  anguage.  143 

tended,  propofed,  refpondent,  concurrence^  epprsn* 
tice,  refpedive,  revenue. 

13.  PRocELEUsMATicuSjfour  fiiort  fyllables :  horn- 
inibus^  neceffliry. 

14.  DisPONDEUs,  four  long  fyllables:  Injinith, 

1 5.  DiiAMBUS,  compofed  of  two  Iambi :  feveritas. 

16.  DiTROcHAEUS,  of  two  Troch^i  :  pcrmanere^ 
procurator, 

17.  loNicus,  two  fnort  fyllables  and  two  long  : 
propcrabant. 

18.  Another  foot  pafles  under  the  fame  name,  com- 
pofed of  two  long  fyllables  and  two  fliort :  caU 

ca?'ibus,  pojfejfory, 

19.  Chori AMBUS,  two  fiiort  fyllables  between  two 
■  long  :  nobilitas. 

20.  Antispastus,  two  long  fyllables  betvveen  two 
fliort :  Alexander. 

21.  Paeon  id,  one  long  fyllable  and  three  Ihort  : 
temporibus,  ordinary,  inventory,  te7nperame7it. 

22.  Paeont  2d,  the  fecond  fyllable  long,  and  the 
other  three  fhort :  rapidity,  fokmnity,  minority, 
conjidercd,  imprudently^  extravagant,  rejpeclfull\\ 
accordingly. 

23.  Paeon  3d,  the  third  fyllable  long  and  the  other 
three  fliort  :  animatus,  independent,  condcfccnd- 
ence,facerdotaI,  rcimburfement,  manufaaure. 

Paeon 


144  Beauty  of  Language,         Ch.XVIIL 

24.  Paeon  4th,  the  lafl:  fyllable  long  and  the  other 
three  lliort  :  celeritas* 

25.  Epitritus   I  ft,  the  firft  fyllable  fliort  and  the 
other  three  long  :  'uoluptates, 

26.  Kpitritus  2d,  the  fecond  fyllable  (hort   and 
the  other  three  long  :  pcs?iitentes. 

27.  Epitritus  3d,  the  third  fyllable  fhort  and  the 
other  three  long  :  difcordias. 

28.  Epitritus  4th,  the  lafl:  fyllable  lliort  and  the 
other  three  long  :  fortunatiis* 

29.  A  Word  of  five  fyllables  compofed  of  a  Pyr- 
rhichius  and  Dadylus :  minijlerial. 

30.  A  word  of  five  fyllables  compofed  of  a   Tro- 
chaeus  and  Daftylus  :  ftngularity. 

31.  A  word  of  five  fyllables  compofed  of  a  Dac- 
tylus  and  Trochaeus :  precipitation,  examination, 

32.  A  word  of  five  fyllables,  the  fecond  only  long: 
fignijicancy, 

33.  A  word  of  fix  fyllables  compofed  of  two  Dac- 
tyles  :  impetuofiiy, 

34.  A  word  of  fix  fyllables  compofed  of  a  Trlbra-* 
chys  and  Dactyle  :  pufillanimity, 

N.  B.  Every  word  may  be  confidered  as  a  profe 
foot,  becaufc  every  word  is  diPcinguifhcd  by  a  paufe ; 
and  every  foot  in  verfe  may  be  confidered  as  a  verfe 
word,  compofed  of  fyllables  pronounced  at  once 
*^'ithout  a  paule. 

CHAP. 


CHAP.      XIX. 

Companfons. 


•MPARisoNs,  as  obferved  above,*  ferve 
two  purpofes  :  when  addreffed  to  the  underftanding, 
their  purpofe  is  to  inflrud  ;  when  to  the  heart,  their 
purpofe  is  to  pleafe.;  Various  means  contribute  to 
the  latter  :  firft,  the  fuggefting  fome  unufual  refem- 
blance  or  contrail ;  fecond,  the  fetting  an  objed  in 
the  ftrongeft  light ;  third,  the  aObciating  an  object 
with  others  that  are  agreeable  ;  fourth,  the  elevating 
an  objeft  ;  and,  fifth,  the  deprefling  it.-  And  that 
comparifons  may  give  pleafure  by  thefe  various  means, 
appears  from  what  is  faid  in  the  chapter  above  cited  ; 
and  will  be  made  dill  more  evident  by  examples, 
which  fiiall  be  given  after  premifnig  fome  general 
obferA'ations. 

Objects  of  different  fenfes  cannot  be  compared  to- 
gether;; for  fuch  objects,  being  entirely  feparated 
from  each  other,  have  no  circumftance  in  common 
to  admit  either  refemblance  or  contraft.  Objefts  of 
hearing  may  be  compared  together,  as  alfo  of  rafte, 
of  fmell,  and  of  touch  :  but  the  chief  fund  of  com- 
parifon  are  objefts  of  fight; ;  becaufe,  in  writing  cr 
fpeaking,  things  can  only  be  compared  in  idea,  and 
the  ideas  of  fight  are  more  diilind  and  lively  than 
thofe  of  any  other  fenfe. 

When  a  nation  emerging  out  of  barbarity  begins 
to  think  of  the  fine  arts,  the  beauties  of  languag^e 
cannot  long  lie  concealed  ;  and  when  dlfcovered, 
they  are  generally,  by  the  force  of  novelty,  carried 
beyond  moderation.     Thus,  in  the  early  poems  of 

every 

*  Chap.  8.  J 

Vol.  IL  K 


146  Comparifons,  .  Ch.  XIX. 

every  nation,  we  find  metaphors  and  fimlles  founded 
on  flight  and  diftant  refeniblances,  which,  lofmg 
their  grace  with  their  novelty,  wear  gradually  out  of 
repute  ;  and  now,  by  the  improvement  of  tafte, 
none  but  corredt  metaphors  and  fmiiles  are  admitted 
into  any  polite  compofition.  To  illuftrate  this  obfer- 
vation,  a  fpecimen  fiiall  be  given  afterward  of  fuch 
metaphors  as  I  have  been  defcribing  j  with  refped  to 
fmiiles,  take  the  following  fpecimen. 

Behold  thou  art  fair,  my  love  :  thy  hair  is  as  a  fiock  of 
goats  that  appear  from  Mount  Gilead  :  thy  teeth  are  like  a 
flock  of  ftieep  from  the  wafhing,  every  one  bearing  twins  : 
thv  lips  are  like  a  thread  of  fcarlet :  thy  neck  like  the  tower 
of  David  built  for  an  armoury,  whereon  hang  a  thoufand 
fliields  of  mighty  men  :  thy  two  breads  like  two  young 
roes  that  are  twins,  which  feed  among  the  lilies  :  thy  eyes 
like  the  firti-pools  in  Hefhbon,  by  the  gate  of  Bath-rabbim  ; 
thy  nofe  like  the  tower  of  Lebanon,  looking  toward  Da- 
mafcus. 

Song  of  Solomon, 

Thou  art  like  fnow  on  the  heath  ;  thy  hair  like  the  mill 
of  Cromla,  when  it  curls  on  the  rocks  and  fhines  to  the 
beam  of  the  weit ;  thy  breads  are  like  two  fmooth  rocks 
feen  from  Brano  of  the  ftreams  ;  thy  arms  like  two  white 
pillars  ia  the  hall  of  the  mighty  Fingal. 

Fingal, 

It  has  no  good  effe6l  to  compare  things  by  way 
of  fimile  that  are  of  the  fame  kind  ;  nor  to  compare 
by  contrail  things  of  different  kinds.  The  reafon  is 
given  in  the  chapter  quoted  above  ;  and  'the  reafon 
ihall  be  illuflrated  by  examples.  The  firft  is  a  com- 
parifon  built  upon  a  refemblance  fo  obvious  as  to 
make  little  or  no  impreflion. 

This  juft  rcb\jke  inflam'd  the  Lycian  crew, 
I        They  join,  they  thicken,  and  the  affault  renew  : 


Ch.  XIX,  Companfomt,  147 

Unmov'd  th'  embody'd  Greeks  their  fury  dare, 
And  fix'd  fupport  the  weight  of  all  the  war  ; 
Nor  could  the  Greeks  repel  the  Lycian  pow'rs. 
Nor  the  bold  Lycians  force  the  Grecian  towr's. 
As  on  the  confines  of  adjoining  grounds, 
Two  ftubborn  fwains  with  blows  difpute  their  bounds  ; 
They  tug,  they  fweat  \  but  neither  gaiii,  nor  yield, 
One  foot,  one  inch,  of  the  contended  field  : 
Thus  obftinate  to  death,  they  fight,  they  fall ; 
Nor  thefe  can  keep,  nor  thofe  can  win  the  wall. 

Iliad  xii.  505. 

Another,  from  Milton,  lies  open  to  the  fame  objec- 
tion. Speaking  of  the  fallen  angels  fearching  for 
mines  of  gold. 

A  numerous  brigade  haften'd  :  as  when  bands 
Of  pioneers  with  fpade  and  pick-ax  arm'd, 
Forerun  the  royal  camp  to  trench  a  field 
Or  call  a  rampart. 

The  next  fliall  be  of  things  contrafted  that  are  of 
different  kinds. 

^een.  What,  is  my  Richard  both  in  fliape  and 
mind 
Transform'd  and  weak  ?  Hath  Bolingbroke  depos'd 
Thine  intelledl  ?  Hath  he  been  in  thine  heart  I 
The  lion  thrufteth  forth  his  paw, 
And  wounds  the  earth,  if  nothing  elfe,  with  rage 
To  beo'erpower'd  :   and  wilt  thou,  pupil-like. 
Take  thy  correction  mildly,  kifs  the  rod. 
And  fawn  on  rage  with  bafe  humility  ? 

Richard  II.  ad  ^>fc,  i. 

This  comparifon  has  fcarce  any  force  :  a  man  and  a 
lion  are  of  different  fpecies,  and  therefore  are  proper 
fubjecls  for  a  fimile  j  but  there  is  no  fuch  refem- 
blance  between  them  in  general^  as  to  produce  any 

itrpng 


148  Comparifont.  Ch.  XIX, 

flrong  efTed  by  contrafting   particular  attributes  or 
circumflances. 

'  A  third  general  obfervation  is,  That  abflrad  terms 
can  never  be  the  fubject  of  comparifon,  otherwife 
than  by  being  perfonified.  ■  Shakefpear  compares  ad- 
verfity  to  a  toad,  and  fianider  to  the  bite  of  a  croco- 
dile ;  but  in  fuch  comparifons  thefe  abftracl  terms 
muft  be  imagined  fenfible  beings. 

.To  have  a  juft  notion  of  comparifons,  they  mufl 
be"  diftinguifhed  into  tvi'o  kinds  ;  lone  common  and 
familiar,  as  where  a  man  is  compared  to  a  lion  in 
courage,  or  to  a  horfe  in  fpeed  j^  the  other  more 
diflant  and  refined,  where  two  things  that  have  in 
themfelves  no  refemblance  or  oppofition,  are  com- 
pared with  refped  to  their  eftefts.N  This  fort  of  com- 
parifon is  occafionally  explained  'above  ;*  and  for 
further  explanation  take  what  follows.  There  is  no  re- 
femblance between  a  flower-pot  and'  a  cheerful  fong ; 
and  yet  they  m.ay  be  compared  with  refpeft  to  their 
efFed^s,  the  emotions  they  produce  being  fimilar. 
There  is  as  little  refemblance  between  fraternal  con- 
cord and  precious  ointment  ;  and  yet  obferve  how 
fuccefsfully  they  are  compared  with  refped  to  theim- 
preffions  they  make. 

Behold  how  good  and  how  pleafant  it  is  for  brethren  to 
dwell  together  in  unity.  It  is  like  the  precious  ointment 
upon  the  head,  that  ran  down  upon  Aaron's  beard,  and  de- 
fcended  to  the  flvirts  of  his  garment. 

Pfahi  133. 

For  illullraling  this  fort  of  comparifon,  I  add  fome 
more  examples  : 

Delightful  is  thv  prefence,  O  Fingal  !  it  is  like  the  fun 
on  Cromla,  when  the  hunter  mourns  his  abfence  tor  a  fea- 
fon,  and  fees  him  between  the  clouds. 

Did 

*  P.  70. 


Ch.  XIX.  Comparifons*  I4y 

Did  not  OHian  hear  a  voice  ?  or  is  it  the  found  of  days 
that  are  no  more  ?  Often,  like  the  evening  fun,  comes  the 
memory  of  former  times  on  my  foul. 

His  countenance  is  fettled  from  war  ;  and  is  calm  as  the 
evening-beam,  that  from  the  cloud  ot  the  welt  looks  on 
Cona's  filent  v^e. 

Sorrow,  like  a  cloud  on  the  fun,  fhades  the  foul  of  Clef- 
fammor. 

The  mufic  was  like  the  memory  of  joys  that  are  paH:, 
pleafant  and  mournlul  to  the  foul. 

Pleafant  are  tiie  words  of  the  fong,  faid  Cuchullin,  and 
lovely  are  the  tales  of  other  times.  They  are  like  the  cairn 
dew  of  the  morning  on  the  hill  of  roes,  when  the  fun  is 
faint  on  its  fide,  and  the  lake  is  fettled  and  blue  in  the  vale. 

Thefe  quotations  are  from  the  poems  of  Ollian, 
who  abounds  with  comparifons  of  this  delicate  kind, 
and  appears  fmgularly  happy  in  them.* 

I  proceed  to  illuftrate  by  particular  inftances  the 
different  means  by  which  comparifons,  whether  of 
the  one  fort  or  the  other,  can  afford  pleafure  ;  and, 
in  the  order  above  eltabllfhed,  I  begin  with  fuch  in- 
(tances  as  are  agreeable,  by  fuggeffing  fome  unufuai 
refemblance  or  contrail  : 

Sweet  are  the  ufes  of  Adverfity, 

Which  like  the  toad,  ugly  and  venomous, 

Wears  yet  a  precious  jewel  in  her  head. 

As  you  like  it,  a5i  2.  fc.  I. 

Gardener'.  Bolingbroke  hath  feized  the  wafteful  King. 
What  pity  is't  that  he  had  not  fo  trimm'd 
And  drefs'd  his  land,  as  we  this  garden  drefs, 
And  wound  the  bark,  the  fkin  of  our  fruit-trees  ; 
Left,  being  over  proud  with  fap  and  bloodj 
With  too  much  riches  it  confound  itfelf. 

Had 

*  The  nature  and  merit  of  OfTian's  compaiUbnf!  is  fully  illuflrated,  in 
a  differtation  on  the  poems  of  that  Author,  by  Dr.  Blair,  proftflbr  of 
rhetoric  in  (he  college  of  Edinburgh  j  a  deiicious  morlel  of  criticifm. 

K3 


t$0  Compan/om.  Ch.  X1X„ 

Had  he  done  fo  to  great  and  growing  men, 
They  might  have  liv'd  to  bear,  and  he  to  tafte 
Their  fruits  of  duty.     All  fuperfluous  branches 
We  lop  away,  that  bearing  boughs  may  live  : 
Had  he  done  fo>  himfelf  had  borne  the  crown. 
Which  walte  and  idle  hours  have  quite  thrown  down. 

Richard  11.  a6i  '^-Jc.  7. 

See  how  the  Morning  opes  her  golden  gates. 
And  takes  her  farewell  of  the  glorious  Sun  ; 
How  well  refembles  it  the  prime  of  youth, 
Trimm'd  like  a  younker  prancing  to  bis  love  I 

Second  party  Henry  VI.  a£i  1>fc.  t. 

Brutus.     O  Caffius  you  are  yoked  with  a  lamb, 
That  carries  anger  as  the  flint  bears  fire  : 
Who,  much  enforced,  ihows  a  hafty  fpark. 
And  ilraight  is  cold  again. 

Julius  Cafary  a£f  J^'fc.  3. 

Thus  they  their  doubtful  confultations  dark 

Ended,  rejoicing  in  their  matchlefs  chief  : 

As>  when  from  mountain-tops,  the  dufky  clouds 

Afcending,  while  the  North-wind  fieeps,  o'erfpread 

Heav'n's  cheerful  face,  the  low'ring  element 

Scowls  o'er  the  darken'd  landfcape,  fnow  and  fhow'r  ; 

If  chance  the  radiant  fun  with  farewell  fweet 

Extends  his  ev'ning-beam,  the  fields  revive, 

The  birds  their  notes  renew,  and  bleating  herds 

Atteft  their  joy,  that  hill  and  valley  rings. 

Paradife  Loji^  b.  J?., 

As  the  bright  liars,  and  milky  way, 
Show'd  by  the  night  are  hid  by  day  : 
So  we  in  that  accomplifh'd  mind, 
Help'd  by  the  night  new  graces  find. 
Which  by  the  fplendor  of  her  view. 
Dazzled  before,  we  never  knew. 

fFaller. 

The  lafl  exertion  of  courage  compared  to  the  blaze 
©f  a  lamp  before  extinguilhing,  Tajfo  Cieru/alem, 
canto  i^'Ji-  22. 

None 


Ch.  six.  Comparifons,  151 

None  of  the  foregoing  fi miles,  as  they  appear  to 
me,  tend  to  illuftrate  the  principal  fubjed  :  and  there- 
fore the  pleafure  they  afford  mull  arife  from  fuggeft- 
ing  refemblances  that  are  not  obvious :  I  mean  the 
chief  pleafure  ;  for  undoubtedly  a  beautiful  fubjed 
introduced  to  form  the  fmiile  affords  a  feparate  pleaf- 
ure, which  is  felt  in  the  fimiles  mentioned,  particu- 
larly in  that  cited  from  Milton. 

The  next  effe£l  of  a  comparifon  in  the  order  men- 
tioned, is  to  place  an  obje£t  in  a  flrong  point  of  view ; 
which  effed  is  remarkable  in  the  following  fmiiles : 

As  when  two  fcales  are  charg'd  with  doubtful  loads, 
From  fide  to  fide  the  trembling  balance  nods, 
(While  fome  laborious  matron,  ju(t  and  poor. 
With  nice  exadnefs  weighs  her  woolly  itore,} 
Till  pois'd  aloft,  the  reding  beam  fufpends 
jEach  equal  weight  ;  nor  tliis  nor  that  defcends  : 
So  flood  the  war,  till  Hc6tor's  matchlefs  might. 
With  fates  prevailing,  turn'd  the  fcale  of  fight. 
Fierce  as  a  whirlwind  up  the  wall  he  flies. 
And  fires  his  hoft  with  loud  repeated  cries, 

Iliad f  b.  xii.  521. 

Ut  flos  in  feptis  fecrctis  nafcitur  hortis, 

Ignotus  pecori,  nuUo  contufus  aratro. 

Quern  mulcent  aurje,  firniat  fol,  educat  imber,  » 

Multi  ilium  pueri,  mults  cupiere  puella."  ; 

Idem,  cum  tenui  carptus  dctioruit  ungui, 

Nulli  iilum  pueri,  nullie  cupiere  puellas  : 

Sic  virgo,  dum  intac\a  manet,  dum  cara  fuis  ;  fed 

Cum  caltuin  amifit,  polluto  corpore,  florem. 

Nee  pueris  jucunda  manet,  nee  cara  puellis. 

Catullus. 

The 
K  4 


152  Comparifons.  Ch.  XIX. 

The  imitation  of  this  beautiful  fimile  by  ArioJlOi 
canto  i.Ji.  42.  falls  fhort  of  the  original.  It  is  alfo 
in  p^rt  imitated  by  Pope.* 

Lucctta.  I  do  not  feck  to  quench  your  love's  hot  fire. 
But  quality  the  fire's  extreme  rage. 
Left  it  Ihould  burn  above  the  bounds  of  reafon. 

Julia.     The  more  thou  damm'lt  it  up,  the  more  it 
burns  : 
The  current,  that  with  gentle  murmur  glides, 
Thou  know'ft,  being  ftopp'd,  impatiently  doth  rage  ; 
But  when  his  faircourfe  is  not  hindered, 
He  makes  fweet  mufiC  with  th'  enamel'd  ftones. 
Giving  a  gentle  kifs  to  every  fedge 
He  overtakeih  in  his  pilgrimage  : 
And  fo  by  many  windmg  nooks  he  ftrays 
With  willing  fport,  to  the  wild  ocean. 
Then  let  me  go,  and  hinder  not  my  courfe  : 
Til  be  as  patient  as  a  gentle  ftream. 
And  make  a  paftime  of  each  weary  ftep, 
Till  the  lafl  ftep  have  brought  me  to  my  love  ; 
And  there  I'll  reft,  as,  after  much  tiiraioil, 
A  blefled  foul  doth  in  tlyfium. 

Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona y  a6l  1.  Jc.  10. 

She  never  told  her  love  ; 

But  let  concealment,  like  a  worm  i'  the  bud, 
Feed  on  her  damalk  cheek  :  the  pin'd  in  thought  ; 
And  vvith  a  green  and  yellow  melancholy, 
She  fat  like  Patience  on  a  monument. 
Smiling  at  Grief. 

Twelfth -Kighty  a£i  2.fc.  6. 

Torh.     Then,  as  I  faid,  the  Duke,  great  Bolingbroke, 
Mounted  upon  a  hot  and  fiery  fteed. 
Which  his  afpiring  rider  feem'd  to  know, 
With  How  but  ftaiely  pace,  kept  on  his  courfe  : 
While  all  tongues  cry'd,  God  fave  thee,  Bolingbroke. 

Duchefs, 

*  Punciad,  b.  4.  I.  405. 


Ch.  XIX.  Comparifons,  153 

Ducbejs.     Alas  !    poor  Richard,  where  rides  he  t.h( 
'  while  ! 
York.  As  in  a  theatre,  the  eyes  of  men, 
After  a  welJ-grac'd  atSlor  leaves  the  llage, 
Are  idly  bent  on  him  that  enters  next, 
Thinking  his  prattle  to  be  tedious  : 
Even  fo,  or  with  much  more  contempt  m.en's  eyes 
Did  fcowl  on  Richard  ;   no  man  cry'd,  God  fave  him  ? 
No  joyful  tongue  gave  him  his  welcome  home  \ 
But  dud  wa>  thrown  upon  his  facred  head  : 
V/hich  with  fuch  gcuile  forrow  he  (hook  off. 
His  face  ftill  combating  with  tears  and  Imiles, 
The  badges  of  his  griet  and  patience  ; 
That  had  not  God,  for   fome   (trong  purpofe,  fteel'ti 
The  hearts  of  men,  they  miift  perforce  have  mehed, 
And  baibarifm  itfelf  have  pitied  him. 

Richard  W.  a6l  ^.fc.  3. 

Northumberland.  How  doth  my  fon  and  brother  r 
Thou  trembled,  and  the  whitenefs  in  thy  cheek 
Is  apter  than  thy  tongue  to  tell  thy  errand. 
Even  fuch  a  man,  fo  faint,  fo  fpiriilefs. 
So  dull,  fo  dead  in  look,  fo  wo-be-gone, 
Drew  Priam's  curtain  in  the  dead  of  night, 
And  would  have  told  him,  half  his  Troy  was  burn'd  ; 
But  Priam  found  the  hre,  ere  he  his  tongue  : 
And  I  my  Piercy's  death,  ere  thou  report'il  it. 

Second  part,  Henry  IV.  ad  i.j'c.  3. 

"Why,  then  I  do  but  dream  on  fov'reignty, 

Like  one  that  Itands  upon  a  promontory, 

And  fpies  a  far-off  fhore  where  he  would  tread, 

Wilhing  his  foot  were  equal  wiih  his  eye, 

And  chides  the  fea  that  funders  him  from  thence. 

Saying,  he'll  lave  it  dry  to  have  his  way  : 

So  do  I  wilh,  the  crown  being  fo  far  off, 

And  fo  I  chide  the  means  t'aat  keep  me  from  it, 

And  fo  (I  fay)  I'll  cut  the  caufes  off, 

Flatt'ring  my  mind  with  tilings  impodible, 

^I  bird  part,  Henry  VI.  ad  3./^.  3. 


Out,  out  brief  candle  ! 
Life's  but  a  walkini^  ihudcv.',  a  poor  player, 


Thut 


154  Comparifons,  Ch.  XlXt 

That  ftruts  and  frets  his  hour  upon  the  ftage. 
And  then  is  heard  no  more. 

Macbethy  aSi  ^.fc.  5, 

O  thou  Goddefs, 

Thou  divine  Nature  !  how  thyfelf  thou  blazon'ft 

In  thefe  two  princely  boys  !  they  are  as  gentle 

As  zephyrs  blowing  below  the  violet, 

Not  wagging  his  fweet  head  ;  and  yet  as  rough, 

(Their  royal  blood  inchaf  d)  as  the  rudeft  wind. 

That  by  the  top  doth  take  the  mountain  pine. 

And  make  him  floop  to  th'  vale. 

CymleVmey  afl  ifjc.  4. 

Why  did  not  I  pafs  away  in  fecret,  like  the  flower  of  the 
rock  that  lifts  its  fair  head  unfeen,  and  ftrows  its  withered 
leaves  on  the  blad  ? 

FingoL 

There  is  a  joy  in  grief  when  peace  dwells  witli  the  for- 
rowful.  But  they  are  wafted  with  mourning,  O  daughter 
of  Tofcar,  and  their  days  are  few.  They  fall  away  like 
the  tlower  on  which  the  fun  looks  in  his  flrength,  after  the 
mildew  has  pafled  over  it,  and  its  head  is  heavy  with  the 
drops  of  night. 

Flngul. 

The  fight  obtained  of  the  city  of  Jerufalem  by  the 
Chriftian  army,  compared  to  that  of  land  difcovered 
after  a  long  voyage,  Taffo*s  Gierufalem,  canto  '^'Ji'  4. 
The  fury  of  Rinaldo  fubfiding  when  not  oppofed,  to 
that  of  wind  or  water  when  it  has  a  free  paflage, 
canto  10.  Ji.  58. 

As  words  convey  but  a  faint  and  obfcure  notion  of 
great  numbers,  a  poet,  to  give  a  lively  notion  of  the 
object  he  defcribes  with  regard  to  number,  does  well 
to  compare  it  to  what  is  familiar  and  commonly 
knov,^n.  Thus  Homer  *  compares  the  Grecian  ar- 
my 
*  Book  2, 1.  m. 


Ch.  XIX.  Comparifom*  1 55 

my  in  point  of  number  to  a  fwarm  of  bees  :  in 
another  palTage  *  he  compares  it  to  that  profufion  of 
leaves  and  flowers  which  appear  in  the  fpring,  or  of 
infers  in  a  fummer's  evening  :  and  Milton, 


As  when  the  potent  rod 


Of  Amram's  fon,  in  Egypt's  evil  day, 
Wav'd  round  the  coaft,  up  call'd  a  pitchy  cloud 
Of  locufts,  warping  on  the  eaftern  wind, 
That  o'er  the  realm  of  impious  Pharaoh  hung 
Like  night,  and  darkened  all  the  land  of  Nile  : 
So  numberlefs  were  thofe  bad  angels  feen. 
Hovering  on  wing  under  the  cope  of  hell, 
*Twixt  upper,  nether,  and  furrounding  fires. 

Paradije  Lofty  h.  i. 

Such  comparifons  have,  by  fome  writers  ,t  been  con^ 
demned  for  the  lownefs  of  the  images  introduced  : 
but  furely  without  reafon  ;  for,  with  regard  to  num- 
bers, they  put  the  principal  fubjedt  in  a  fcrong  light. 

The    foregoing    comparifons   operate  by  refem- 
blance  j  others  have  the  fame  effect  by  contraft, 

Torh.     I  am  the  laft  of  Noble  Edward's  fons, 
Of  whom  thy  father,  Prince  of  Wales,  was  hrR  ; 
In  war,  was  never  lion  rag'd  more  fierce  ; 
In  peace,  was  never  gentle  lamb  more  mild  ; 
Than  was  that  young  and  princely  gentleman. 
His  face  thou  had,  for  even  fo  look'd  he, 
Acconiplilh'd  with  the  number  of  tliy  hours. 
But  when  he  frown'd  it  was  againft  the  French, 
And  not  againll  his  friends.     His  noble  hand 
Did  win  what  he  did  fpend  \  and  fpent  not  that 
Which  his  triumphant  father's  hand  had  won. 
His  hands  were  guilty  of  no  kindred's  blood. 
But  bloody  with  the  enemies  of  his  kin. 
Oh,  Richard  !  York  is  too  far  gone  wiih  grief, 
Or  elfehe  never  would  compare  between. 

Richard  li.  a£i  2.  fc.  3. 
Miltoii 
*  Book  2.  1.  551.  +  See  Vide  Pociic,  lib.  2.  1.  abe. 


15^  Comparifom.  Ch.  XIX, 

Milton  has  a  peculiar  talent  in  embellilhing  the 
principal  fubjed  by  aflbciating  it  with  others  that  are 
agreeable  ;  which  is  the  third  end  of  a  comparifon. 
Similes  of  this  kind  have,  befide,  a  feparate  efFed  : 
they  diverlify  the  narration  by  new  images  that  are 
not  ftridly  neceffary  to  the  comparifon  :  they  are 
fhort  epifodes,  which,  without  drawing  us  from  the 
principal  fubjed,  afford  great  delight  by  their  beauty 
and  variety : 

He  fcarce  had  ceas'd  when  the  fuperior  fiend 

Was  moving  toward  the  fhore  ;  his  pond'rous  fliield. 

Ethereal  temper,  mally,  large,  and  round, 

Behind  him  call  ;  the  broad  circumference 

Hung  on  his  fhoulders  like  the  moon,  whofe  orb 

Through  optic  glafs  the  Tufcan  artiit  views 

At  ev'ning  trom  the  top  of  Fefole, 

Or  in  Valdarno,  to  defcry  new  lands. 

Rivers,  or  mountains,  in  her  fpotty  globe. 

Miltariy  h.  I. 

Thus  far  thefe,  beyond 


Compare  of  mortal  prowefs,  yet  obferv'd 
Their  dread  commander.     He  above  the  reft 
In  Ihape  and  geliure  proudly  eminent. 
Stood  like  a  tow'r  ;  his  form  had  yet  not  loft 
Ail  her  original  brightnefs,  nor  appear'd 
Lefs  than  archangel  ruin'd,  and  th'  excefs 
Of  glory  obfcur'd  :  as  when  the  fun  new-rifen 
Looks  through  the  horizontal  mifty  air 
Shorn  ot  his  beams  ;  or  from  behind  the  moon 
In  dim  eclipfe,  difaftrous  twilight  Iheds 
On  half  the  nations,  and  with  fear  of  change 
Perplexes  monarchs. 

MUtoHyb.  I. 

As  when  a  vulture  on  Imaus  bred, 

Whofe  fnowy  ridge  the  roving  Tartar  bounds, 

Diflodging  from  a  region  fcarce  of  prey 

To  gorge  the  iiclh  of  lambs,  or  yeanling  kids, 

On 


Ch.  XIX.  Comparifons.  157 

On  hills  where  flocks  are  fed,  flies  toward  the  fprings 

Of  Ganges  or  Hydafpes,  Indian  ftreams. 

But  in  his  way  lights  on  the  barren  plains 

Of  Sericana,  where  Chinefes  drive 

With  fails  and  wind  iheir  cany  M'aggons  light  : 

So  on  this  windy  fea  q\  land,  the  hend 

Walk'd  up  and  down  alone,  bent  on  his  prey. 

Milton^  b.  3. 

Yet  higher  than  their  tops 


The  verdurous  wall  of  paradife  up  fprung  : 
Which  to  our  general  fire  gave  profpedl  large 
Into  this  nether  empire  neighbouring  round. 
And  higher  than  that  wall,  a  circling  row 
Of  goodlieft  trees  loaden  wiih  fairelt  truit, 
Bloiibms  and  fruits  at  once  of  golden  hue, 
Appear'd,  with  gay  enamel'd  colours  mix'd, 
On  which  the  fun  more  glad  imprefs'd  his  beams 
Than  in  fair  evening  cloud,  or  humid  bow, 
When  God  had  ihow'r'd  the  earth  ;  fo  lovely  feem'd 
Thai  huidfcape  :  and  of  pure  now  purer  air 
Meets  his  approach,  and  to  the  heart  infpires 
Vernal  dtlight  and  joy,  able  to  drive 
All  fadnefs  but  defpair  :  now  gentle  gales 
Fanning  their  odoriferous  wings  difpcnfe 
Native  perfumes,  and  whifper  whence  they  (lole 
Thofe  balmy  fpoils.     As  when  to  them  who  fail 
Beyond  the  Cape  of  Hope,  and  now  are  pad 
Mozambic,  off  at  fea  north-ealt  winds  blow 
Sabean  odour  from  the  fpicy  fhore 
Of  Araby  the  Blelt  ;  with  fuch  delay 
Well-pleas'd  they  flack  their  courfe,  and  many  a  league 
Cheer'd  with  the  graceful  fmell,  old  Ocean  fmiles. 

Miiton,  b.  4. 

With  regard  to  fimiles  of  this  kind,  it  will  readily 
occur  to  the  reader,  that  v/hen  a  refembling  fubjed: 
is  once  properly  introduced  in  a  fimile,  the  mind  is 
tranfitorily  amufed  with  the  new  objeft,  and  is  not 
diflatisfied  with  the  flight  interruption.  Thus,  in  fine 
weather,  the  momentary  excurfions  of  a  traveller  for 

agreeable 


158  Compan/otm  Ch.  XlX* 

agreeable  profpe£ls  or  elegant  buildings,  cheer  his 
mind,  relieve  him  from  the  languor  of  uniformity, 
and  without  much  lengthening  his  journey,  in  real- 
ity, Ihorten  it  greatly  in  appearance. 

Next  of  comparifons  that  aggrandize  or  elevate. 
Thefe  affed  us  more  than  any  other  fort :  the  reafon 
of  which  may  be  gathered  from  the  chapter  of  Gran- 
deur and  Sublimity  ;  and,  without  reafoning,  will  be 
evident  from  the  following  inflances  : 

As  when  a  flame  the  winding  valley  fills, 
And  runs  on  crackling  (hrubs  between  the  hills, 
Then  o'er  the  ftubble,  up  the  mountain  flies. 
Fires  the  high  woods,  and  blazes  to  the  flcies. 
This  way  and  that^  the  fpreading  torrent  roars  ; 
So  Iweeps  the  hero  through  the  wafted  ihores. 
Around  him  wide,  immenfe  deftrudlion  pours. 
And  earth  is  delug'd  with  the  fanguine  fhow'rs. 

Iliad  %x.  ^6g, 

Through  blood,  through  death,  Achilles  flill  proceeds^ 

O'er  flaughtered  heroes,  and  o'er  rolling  ft;eeds. 

As  when  avenging  flames  with  fury  driv'n 

On  guilty  towns  exert  the  wrath  of  Heav'n, 

The  pale  inhabitants,  fome  fall,  fome  fly, 

And  the  red  vapours  purple  all  the  flcy  : 

So  rag'd  Achilles  ;  death  and  diredifmay, 

And  toils,  and  terrors,  fiU'd  the  dreadful  day. 

Iliad  xx\.  605. 

Methinks,  King  Richard  and  myfelf  (hould  me«t 
With  no  lefs  terror  than  the  elements 
Ot  Are  and  water,  when  their  thund'rinjr  fhock, 
At  meeting,  tears  the  cloudy  cheeks  of  Heav'n. 

Richard  II.  a<f?  3./:.  5. 

As  ruflieth  a  foamy  ftream  from  the  dark  fhady  flecp  of 
Cromla,  when  thunder  is  rolling  above,  and  dark  brown 
night  rcfts  on  the  hill  :  fo  fierce,  fo  vaft,  {o  terrible,  rufh 
forward  the  fons  of  Erin.     The  chief,   like  n  whale  of 

Ocean 


€h»  XIX.  Comparifons.  1 5^ 

Ocean  followed  by  all  its  billows,  pours  valour  forth  as  a 
ftream,  rolling  its  might  along  the  fliore. 

Fingalj  b,  i. 

As  roll  a  thoufanH  waves  to  a  rock,  fo  Swaran's  hoftcame 
on  \  as  meets  a  rock  a  thoufand  waves,  fo  Inisfail  met 
Swaran.    ♦  Ibid. 

I  beg  peculiar  attention  to  the  following  fimile  for  a 
teafon  that  fhall  be  mentioned. 

Thus  breathing  death,  in  terrible  array. 
The  clofe  compaded  legions  urg'd  their  way  : 
Fierce  they  drove  on,  impatient  to  deftroy  ; 
Troy  charg'd  the  firft,  and  He£lor  firit  of  Troy. 
As  from  fome  mountain's  craggy  forehead  torn, 
A  rock's  round  fragment  flies  with  fury  borne, 
(Which  from  the  ftubborn  flone  a  torrent  rends) 
Precipitate  the  pond'rous  mafs  dcfcends  ; 
From  fteep  to  fleep  the  rolling  ruin  bounds  : 
At  every  fhock  the  crackling  wood  refounds  ; 
Still  gath'ring  force,  it  fmokes  ;  and  urg'd  amain, 
Whirls,  leaps,  and  thunders  down,  impetuous  to  the  plain  i 
There  flops — So  He6lor.    Their  whole  force  he  prov'd  ; 
Refiitlefs  when  he  rag'd  j  and  when  he  ftopt  unmov'd. 

Iliad  yCm.    187. 

The  Image  of  a  falling  rock  is  certainly  not  ele- 
vating ;*  and  yet  undoubtedly  the  foregoing  fimile. 
fires  and  fwells  the  mind  :  it  is  grand  therefore,  if 
not  fublime*  And  the  following  fimile  will  afford 
additional  evidence,  that  there  is  a  real,  though  nice, 
diflindion  between  thefe  two  feelings  : 

So  faying,  a  noble  (Iroke  he  lifted  high, 
Which  hung  nor,  but  fo  fwift  with  tempeft  fell 
On  the  proud  crelt  of  Satan,  that  no  fight, 
Nor  motion  of  fwift  thought,  lefs  could  his  fhicld 
Such  ruin  intercept.     Ten  paces  huge 

He 

*  Sec  chap.  \. 


i6o  Comparifons*  Ch.  XIX, 

He  back  recoil'd  ;  the  tenth  o\\  bended  knee 
His  irialfy  fpear  I'pfhud  ;  asiFon  earth 
Winds  under  ground  or  waters  forcing  way. 
Sidelong  had  puih'd  a  mountain  from  his  feat 
Half  funk  vv'ith  all  his  pines. 

Milton^  h.  6. 

A  comparifon  by  contrafl:  may  contribute  to  gran- 
deur or  elevation,  no  lefs  than  by  refemblance  ;  of 
which  the  following  comparifon  of  Lucan  is  a  re- 
markable inflance  : 

V'i(5trix  caufa  dlis  placuit,  fed  vi 61  a  Catoni. 

Confidering  that  the  Heathen  deities  poflefled  a 
rank  but  one  degree  above  that  of  mankind,  I  think 
it  would  not  be  eafy  by  a  fnigle  expreffion,  to  exalt 
more  one  of  the  human  fpecies,  than  is  done  in 
this  comparifon.  I  am  fenfible,  at  the  fame  time, 
that  fuch  a  comparifon  among  Chriftians,  who  en- 
tertain more  exalted  notions  of  the  Deity,  would  juft- 
ly  be  reckoned  extravagant  and  abfurd. 

The  lad  article  mentioned,  is  that  of  lefTening  or 
depreffing  a  hated  or  difagreeable  object  ;  which  is 
efFeclually  done  by  refembling  it  to  any  thing  low  or 
defpicable.  Thus  Milton,  in  his  defcription  of  the 
rout  of  the  rebel-angels,  happily  expreffes  their  ter- 
ror and  difmay  in  the  following  fmiile  : 

As  a  herd 


Of  goats  or  timorous  flock  together  throng'd, 
Drove  them  before  him  thunder-ftruck,  purfu'd 
With  terrors  and  with  furies  to  the  bounds  \ 
And  chrydal  wall    of  heav'n,  which  op'ning  wide, 
Rowl'd  inward,  and  a  fpacisus  gap  difclos'd 
Into  the  walleful  deep  :  the  monitrous  fight 

Struck 

See  chap*  4. 


Ch.  XIX.  Comparifons,  i6i 

Struck  them  with  horror  backward,  but  far  worfe 
Urg'd  thetn  behind  ;  headlong  themfelves  they  threw 
Down  from  the  verge  of  heav'n. 

MiJion,  h.  6. 

In  the  fame  view,  Homer,  I  think,  may  be  juflified 
in  comparing  the  fliouts  of  the  Trojans  in  battle  to 
the  noife  of  cranes,*  and  to  the  bleating^Df  a  flock  of 
fheep  :t  it  is  no  objedion  that  thefe  are  low  images, 
for  it  was  his  intention  to  leflen  the  Trojans  by  op- 
pofing  their  noify  march  to  the  filent  and  manly 
march  of  the  Greeks.  Addifon,|  defcribing  the 
figure  that  men  make  in  the  fight  of  a  fuperior  being, 
takes  opportunity  to  mortify  their  pride  by  compar- 
ing them  to  a  fwarm  of  pifmires. 

A  comparifon  that  has  none  of  the  good  effecls 
mentioned  in  this  difcourfe,  but  is  built  upon  com.- 
mon  and  trifling  circumflances,  makes  a  mighty  filiy 
figure  : 

Non  Turn  nefcius,  grandia  confiHa  a  multis  plerumque 
caufis,  ecu  magna  navigia  a  plurimis  remis,  impelli. 

Strndi'/de  hello  Belglco. 

By  this  time,  I  imagine,  the  difi^erent  purpofes  of 
comparifon,  and  the  various  imprefiiions  it  makes  on 
the  mind,  are  fufEciently  illufirated  by  proper  exam- 
ples. This  was  an  eafy  taflc.  It  is  more  di^dicult  to  lay 
down  rules  about  the  propriety  or  impropriety  of 
comparifons  ;  in  what  circumft ances  they  may  be  in- 
troduced, and  in  what  circumflances  they  are  out  of 
place.  It  is  evident,  that  a  comparifon  is  not  proper 
on  every  occafion  :  a  man  when  cool  and  fedate,  is 
not  difpofed  to  poetical  flights,  nor  to  facrifice  truth 
and  reality  to  imaginary  beauties  :  far  lefs   is    he  fo 

difpofed 

*  Beginning  of  book  3.      t  Book  \,  1.  498.     %  Guardian,  No.  153. 

Vol.  IL  L 


i62         '  Comparifons€  Ch.  XIX* 

difpofed  when  opprefled  with  care,  or  interefled  in 
fome  important  tranfaclion  that  engrofles  him  totally. 
On  the  other  hand,  a  man,  when  elevated  or  animat- 
ed by  paffion,  is  difpofed  to  elevate  or  animate  all  his 
objeds :  he  avoids  familiar  names,  exalts  objects  by 
circumlocution  and  metaphor,  and  gives  even  life 
and  voluntary  adlion  to  inanimate  beings.  In  this 
heat  of  mind,  the  higheft  poetical  flights  are  indulg- 
ed, and  the  bolded  fimiles  and  metaphors  reliihed.*" 
But  without  foaring  fo  high,  the  mind  is  frequently 
in  a  tone  to  relifh  chafte  and  moderate  ornament  ; 
luch  as  comparifons  that  fet  the  principal  object  in 
a  flrong  point  of  view,  or  that  embellifh  and  diverfi- 
fy  the  narration.  In  general,  when  by  any  animat- 
ing paffion,  whether  pleafant  or  painful,  an  impulfe 
is  given  to  the  imagination  ;  we  are  in  that  condition 
difpofed  to  every  fort  of  figurative  expreffion,  and  in 
particular  to  comparifons.  This  in  a  great  meafure  is^ 
evident  from  the  comparifons  already  mentioned  ;  and 
Ihall  be  further  illuflrated  by  other  inflances.  Love, 
for  example,  in  its  infancy,  roufmg  the  imagination, 
prompts  the  heart  to  difplay  itfelf  in  figurative  lan- 
guage,  and  in  fimiles  : 

Trottus.     Tell  me,  Apollo,  for  thy  Daphne's  love, 
■   "What  Creflid  is,  what  Pandar,  and  what  we  ? 
Her  bed  is  India  ;  there  Ihe  lies,  a  pearl  : 
Between  our  Ilium,  and  where  fhe  rcfides. 
Let  It  be  call'd  the  wild  and  wandering  flood  ; 
Ourfelf  the  merchant  ;  and  this  failing  Pandar 
Our  doubtful  hope,  our  convoy,  and  our  bark. 

Troilus  and  Crejjidy  ail  l.fc.  I, 

Again  : 

*  It  is  accor(lin?,]y  obferved  bv  Longinus,  in  bis  Treatife  of  the  Sub- 
lime, that  the  proper  time  for  metaphor,  is  when  the  pajfiiiiis  are  fo 
fwelled  as  to  hurty  on  like  a  torrent. 


Ch.  XIX.  Comparlfonst  ^         a  63 

Again  : 

Come  gentle  Night  ;  come,  loving  black -brow'd  Night! 

Give  me  my  Romeo  ;  and,  when  he  ftiall  die, 

Take  him,  and  cut  him  out  in  little  ftars, 

And  he  will  make  the  face  of  Heaven  fo  fine, 

That  all  the  world  (hall  be  in  love  with  Night, 

And  pay  no  woilliip  to  the  f^arifli  Sun. 

Romeo  and  Juliet,  a£l  '7^-fc.  4. 

The  dread  of  a  misfortune,  however  eminent,  in- 
volving always  fome  doubt  and  uncertainty,  agitates 
the  mind  and  excites  the  imagination : 

TVolJcy. Nay,  then,  farewell  ; 

I've  touch'd  the  higheft  point  of  all  my  greatnefs. 
And  from  that  full  meridian  of  my  glory 
I  hafte  now  to  my  fitting.      I  fhall  fall. 
Like  a  bright  exhalation  in  the  evening. 
And  no  man  fee  me  mure. 

Henry  VIII.  a£l  1^.  fc.  4.. 

But  it  will  be  a  better  illuflration  of  the  prefent 
head,  to  give  examples  where  comparifons  are  im- 
properly introduced.  I  have  had  already  occafion 
to  obferve,  that  fmiiles  are  not  the  language  of  a  man 
in  his  ordinary  ftate  of  mind,  difpatching  his  daily 
and  ufual  work.  For  that  reafon,  thi^  following 
fpeech  of  a  gardener  to  his  fervants,  is  extremely 
improper : 

Go  bind  thou  up  yon  dangling  apricots, 
Which,  like  unruly  children  make  tlieir  fire 
Stoop  with  opprelhon,  of  their  prodigal  weight  : 
Give  fome  fupporcance  to  the  bending  twigs. 
Go  thou  ;  and,  like  an  executioner. 
Cut  off  the  lieads  of  too  fafl-grovving  fprays. 
That  look  too  lofty  in  our  commonv/ealth  ; 
All  muit  be  even  in  our  government. 

Richard  II.  at^  3-/^-  7' 
L  2  The 


i64  Compan/oHf,  Cm.  XIX* 

The  fertility  of  Shakefpear's  vein  betrays  him  fre- 
quently into  this  error.  There  is  the  fame  impro- 
priety in  another  fimile  of  his : 

Hero.  Good  Margaret,  run  thee  into  the  parlour  } 
There  (halt  thou  find  my  coufin  Beatrice  ; 
Whifper  her  ear,  and  tell  her,  I  and  Urfiila 
'  ,  Walk  in  the  orchard,  anr'  our  whole  difcourfe 
Is  all  of  her  ;  fay,  that  thou  overheard'!!:  us  : 
And  bid  her  (teal  into  the  pleached  bower. 
Where  honeyfu'ckles,  ripen'd  by  the  fun, 
Forbid  the  fun  to  enter  ;  like  to  favourites, 
Made  proud  by  princes,  that  advance  their  pride 
Againfl  that  power  that  bred  it. 

Much  ado  about  Nothingy  ad  ^•f'^'  ^• 

\  Rooted  grief,  deep  anguifli,  terror,  remorfe,  def- 
p^ir,  and  all  the  fevere  difpiriting  paiTions,  are  de- 
clared enemies,  perhaps  not  to  figurative  language 
in  general,  but  undoubtedly  to  the  pomp  and  folem- 
nity  of  comparifon.  Upon  j:hat  account,  the  fimile 
pronounced  by  young  Rutland,  under  terror  of 
death  from  an  inveterate  enemy,  and  praying  mercy, 
is  unnatural : 

So  looks  the  pent-up  lion  o'er  the  wretch 
That  trembles  under  his  devcrjring  paws  ; 
And  f )  he  walks  infulting  o'er  his  prey, 
And  fo  he  comes  to  rend  his  limbs  afunder. 
Ah,  gentle  Clifford,  kill  me  with  thy  fwonl. 
And  not  with  fuch  a  cruel  threat'ning  lot)k. 

Third  part,  Henry  VI .  ad  l.  fc.  5. 

Nothing  appears  more  out  of  place,  nor  more  awk- 
wardly introduced,  than  the  following  fimile  : 

LJm:'— Farewell,  my  Fortius, 

Farewell,   though  death  is  in  the  \vord,  for-ever  f 

Fortius.     Stay,  Lucia,  ft-iy  ;  what  doft  thou  fay  ?  /or- 
evef  f 

Lucia. 


Ch.  XIX.  Comparifom*  165 

Luci.a.     Ha\'«  I  not  fworn  ?   If,  Fortius,  thy  faccefs 
Mull  throw  thy  brother  on  his  fate,  farewell, 
Oh,  how  Ihall  I  repeat  the  word,  for-ever  ! 

Port'MS.      Thus,  o'er  the  dying  lamp  th'  unfteady  flame 
Hangs  quivering  on  a  point,  leaps  off  by  fits, 
And  falls  again,  as  loavh  to  quit  irs  hold.* 

• Thou  mufl  not  go,  aiy  {oiA  (Hll  hovers  o'er  thee. 

And  can't  get  loofe. 

Cato,  aSf  l.fc.2. 

Nor  doth  the  fimile  which  clofes  the  firil  a6t  of  the 
fame  tragedy  make  a  better  appearance  ;  the  fitua- 
tion  there  reprefented  being  too  difpiriting  for  a  fimi- 
le. A  fimile  is  improper  for  one  who  dreads  the  dif- 
covery  of  a  fecret  machination  ; 

Zara.     The  mute  not  yet  return'd  !  Ha  'twas  the  King, 
The  King  that  parted  hence  !  frowning  he  went  \ 
His  eyes  like  -meteors  roU'd,  then  darted  down 
Their  red  and  angry  beams  ;  as  if  his  light 
Would,  like  the  raging  Dog-ftar,  fcorch  the  earth. 
And  kindle  ruin  in  its  courfe. 

Afourn'ing  Bricle,  a^  S-  fc-  3» 

A  man  fpent  and  difpirited  after  lofing  a  battle,  is 
not  difpofed  to  heighten  or  iUuftrate  his  difcourfe  by 
fimiles : 

York,     With  this  we  charg'd  again  ;  but  out,  alas  ! 
We  bodg'd  again  \  as  I  have  feen  a  fwan 
With  bootlefs  labour  fvvim  againft  the  tide. 
And  fpend  her  Itrength  with  over-matching  waves. 
Ah  !   hark,  the  fatal  followers  do  purfue  ; 
And  I  am  faint  and  cannot  fly  their  fury. 
The  fands  are  number'd  that  make  up  my  life  ; 
Here  muft  I  flay,  and  here  my  life  muil  end. 

Third  part  t  Henry  VI.  a£l  l.fc.  6. 

Far 

*  This  fimile  would  have  a  fine  effeft  pronounced  by  the  chorus  in  a 
Greek  tragedy. 


1 56  Companfons,  Ch.  XIX, 

Far  lefs  is  a  man  difpofed  to  fimlles  who  is  not  only 
defeated  in  a  pitch'd  battle,  but  lies  at  the  point  of 
death  mortally  wounded  : 

J'Varwic\, My  mangled  body  Hlows, 

My  blood,  my  want  of  (trength,  my  iick  heart  Ihows, 

Thai  I  muft  yield  my  body  to  the  earth. 

And,  by  my  tall,  the  conqueft  to  my  foe. 

Th' IS  yields  the  cedar  to  the  ax's  edge, 

Wliofe  arms  gave  fhelter  to  the  princely  eagle  ;    • 

Under  whofe  ihade  the  ramping  lion  flept, 

Whole  top-branch  over-peer'd  Jove's  fpreading  tree, 

And  kept  low  ihrubs  from  w  inter's  pow'rful  wind. 

Third ^arty  Henry  W,  ad  ^-Jc.  3. 

Qtieen  Katherine,  deferted  by  the  King,  and  in  the 
deepefl  affiiction  on  her  divorce,  could  not  be  dif- 
poied  to  any  fallies  of  imagination  :  and  for  that 
reafon,  the  following  fimile,  however  '  beautiful  iu 
the  mouth  of  a  fpedator,  is  fcarce  proper  in  her  own ; 

I  am  the  mofl;  unliappy  woman  living, 
Shlpvvreck'd  upon  a  kingdom,  where  no  pity, 
!No  friends,  no  hope  !  no  kindred  weep  for  me  ! 
A.lmo(l  no  grave  allow'd  me  !   like  the  lily, 
That  once  was  miitrcfs  of  the  field,  and  floiirifh'd, 
I'll  hang  my  head,  and  pciilh. 

King  Henry  VIII.  a£i 'T^.Jc.  i. 

Similes  thus  unfeafonably  introduced,  are  finely 
ridiculed  in  the  RehcarfaL. 

Bayes.     Now  here  (he  mull  make  a  fimilc. 

Smith.     Where's  the  neceOity  of  that,  Mr.  Bayes  ? 

Bayer.  Becaufe  fhe's  furpiifed  ^  that's  a  general  rule  ; 
you  mufl  ever  make  a  fimile  when  you  are  furprifed  ;  'tis 
a  new  way  of  writing. 

A  comparifon  is  not  always  faulti.efs  even  where 
it  is  properly  introduced.    1  have  endeavoured  above 

tp 


Ch.  XIX,  Compari/om*  167 

to  give  a  general  view  of  the  dilTerent  ends  to  which 
a  comparifoii  may  contrioute  :  a  comparifon,  like 
other  human  produclions,  may  fall  ihort  of  its  aim  ; 
of  which  defeQ:  inftances  are  not  rare  even  among 
good  writers  ;  and  to  complete  the  prefent  fubjeft, 
it  will  be  neceifary  to  make  fome  obfervations  upon 
fuch  faulty  comparifons.  I  begin  with  obferving, 
that  nothing  can  be  more  erroneous  than  to  inllitute 
a  comparifon  too  faint  ;  a  diflant  refemblance  or 
contrail  fatigues  the  mind  v/ith  its  obfcurity,  initead 
of  araufmg  it  :  and  tends  not  to  fulfil  any  one  end 
of  a  comparifon.  The  foliowmg  fmiiles  feeni  to  la- 
bour under  this  defed, 

Albus  ut  obfcuro  deterget  nubila  coelo 

Saspe  Notus,  neque  partuiit  imbres 

Perpetuos  :  Tie  tii  fapiens  finire  memento 

Triflitiara,  vitasque  labores, 

Molli,  Plance,  mero.  tj     ^    ^         i   ,     j 

'  '  Horat.  Carm.  i.  i.  ode  7. 

Medio  dux  agmine  Turnus 

Vertitur  ar  ma  tenens,  et  toto  vertice  fupra  eft. 
Ceu  feptem  furgcns  fedatis  amnibiis  altus 
Per  taciturn  Ganges  :  aut  pinguL  tlumiiie  Nilus 
Cum  refluit  campis,   et  jam  fe  condidit  alveo. 

JEneld.  ix.  28. 

Talibus  orabat,  talefque  miferrima  fletus 
Fertque  refertque  foror  :   fed  nidlis  ilie  movetur 
Fletibus,  aut  voces  ullas  tra6labilis  audit. 
Fata  obftant  :  placidafque  viri  Deus  ob!huit  aures. 
Ac  veluii  annofo  validam  cum  robore  qucrcum 
A'ipini  Borea:,  nunc  hinc,  nunc  ilatibus  iilinc 
Erucrc  inter  fe  certant  ;  it  ftridor,  et  alio- 
Confternunt  terram  conculfo  iiipitc  frondes  : 
Ipfa  ha^ret  fcopulis  :  et  quantum  vertice  ad  auras 
iEthcreas,  tantum  radice  in  Tartara  tendit. 
Hand  fecus  afliduis  hinc  atque  hinc  vocibus  heros 
Tunditur,  et  magno  perfcntit  peftore  curas  : 
Mens  immota  manet,  lacrymse  volvuntur  inr.nes. 

Mne'id.  iv.  437. 
T,  4  K.  Rich. 


1 65  Comparifons.  Ch.  XIX. 

K.  Rich.  Give  me  the  crown. — Here  coiifm,  feize  the 
crovvj-!, 
Here,  on  this  fide,  my  hand  ;  on  that  fide,  thine. 
Now  is  this  golden  crown  like  a  deep  well, 
That  owes  two  buckets,  filling  one  another  ; 
The  emptier  ever  dancing  in  tlie  air, 
The  other  down,  unfeen  and  full  of  water  : 
Thai  bucket  down,  and  full  of  tears,  am  I, 
Drinking  my  giiots,  whilit  you  mount  up  on  high. 

Richard  II.  aif.  \' Jc.  3. 

King  "John.  Oh  !  Coufin,  thou  art  come  to  fet  mine  eye  ; 
The  tackle  of  my  heart  is  crack'd  and  burnt  ; 
And  alt  the  fiirowds  wherewith  my  life  Ihould  fail, 
Are  turned  to  one  thread,  one  little  hair  : 
My  heart  haih  one  poor  (tring  to  {tay  it  by 
Which  holds  but  till  thy  news  be  uttered. 

King  John,  a£l  $•  fc  10., 

yorli.  My  uncles  both  are  flain  in  refcuing  me  ; 
And  all  my  followers,  to  the  eager  foe 
Turn  back,  and  fly  like  Ihips  before  the  wind. 
Or  lambs  purfu'd  by  hunger-fiarved  wolves. 

Third  party  Henry  VI.  a£l  i.fc.  6. 

The  latter  of  the  two  fiiniles  is  good  :  the  former^ 
by  its  falntnefs  of  refeinblance,  has  no  effett  but  to 
load  the  narration  with  an  ufelefs  image. 

The  next  error  I  Ihall mention  is  a  capital  one.  'In 
an  epic  poem,  or  in  a  poem  upon  any  elevated  fubjeO:, 
a  writer  ought  to  avoid  raifing  a  fmille  on  a  low  im- 
age, which  never  fails  to  bring  down-  the  principal 
fubjefti  In  general,  it  is  a  ruIeJThat  a  grand  objeft 
ought  never  to  be  refembled  to  tone  that  is  diminu- 
tive, however  delicate  the  refemblance  may  be  ;  for 
it  is  the  peculiar  charader  of  a  grand  object  to  fix 
the  attention,  and  fwell  the  mind  ;  in  which  (late,  to 
contra 6:  it  to  a  minute  objeft,  is  unpleafant.  The 
refembling  an  objed  to  one  that  is  greater,  has,  on 

the 


Ch.  XlX.  Companfons.  1 6g 

the  contrary,  a  good  effe£l,  by  raifing  or  fwelling  the 
mind  :  for  one  pafles  with  fatisfadion  from  a  fmall 
to  a  great  objeft  ;  but  cannot  be  drawn  down,  with- 
out reluctance,  from  great  to  fmalF^  Hence  the  fol- 
lowing fimiles  are  fauky.  >^--"  f 

Meanwhile  ihe  troops  beneath  Patroclus'  carCj, 

Invade  the  Trojans,  and  conamence  the  wax. 

As  wafps,  provok'd  by  children  in  their  play, 

Pour  from  their  manlions  by  the  broad  highway, 

In  fwarms  the  guiltlefs  traveller  engage, 

Whet  all  their  iiings,  and  call  forth  all  their  rage  ; 

All  rife  in  arms,  and  with  a  general  cry 

AlTert  their  waxen  domes,  and  buzzing  progeny  : 

Thus  from  the  tents  the  fervent  legion  fwarms. 

So  loud  their  clamours,  and  fo  keen  their  arms. 

J  Had  xvi.  312, 

So  burns  the  vengeful  hornet  (foul  all  o'er) 
Repuls'd  in  vain,  and  thirily  iiill  of  gore  ; 
(Bold  fon  of  air  and  heat)  on  angry  wings 
Untam'd,  untir'd,  he  turns,  attacks  and  itings. 
Fir'd  with  like  ardour  fierce  Atridcs  iiew, 
And  fent  his  foul  with  ev'ry  lance  he  threw. 

J  Had  xvii.  642, 

Inftant  ardentes  Tyrii  :  pars  ducere  muros, 
Molirique  arcem,  et  manibus  fubvclvere  faxa  ; 
Pars  aptare  locum  te6lo,  et  concludere  fulco. 
Jura  nvagiflratufque  legunt,  fan£luraque  fenatum. 
Hie  portus  alii  cffodiunt  :  hie  aha  theatrls 
Fundanicnta  locant  alii,  immancfque  coluinnas 
Rupibus  excldunt,  fcenis  decora  alta  fuluris. 
Qiialis  apes  xltate  nova  per  tlorca  rura 
Exercet  fjjb  fole  labor,  cum  gcntis  adultos 
Educunt  foetus,  aut  cum  liquentia  mclia 
Stipant,  ct  dulci  diitendunt  nettare  cellas 
Aut  onera  accipiunt  venientmn,  aut  agmine  fa£lo 
Jgnavum  tucos  pecus  a  pra_fepibus  arcent. 
J'exvet  opus,  redolentque  thymo  fragrantia  mella. 

ffLhe'id.  i.  J-27, 
'To 


J  70  Comparifons.  Ch.  XIX» 

To  defcribe  bees  gathering  honey  as  refembling 
the  builders  of  Carthage,  would  have  a  much  bettey 

cffea.* 

Turn  vero  Teucri  incumbunt,  et  littore  celfas 

Dcducunt  toto  naves  :  natat  un«Sla  carina  ; 

Fiondentefque  ferunt  remos,  et  roborafylvis 

Infabricata,  fiigas  itudio. 

Migrantes  cernas,  totaque  ex  urbe  ruentes. 

Ac  veluti  ingentem  Formicas  farris  acervum 

Cum  populant,  hyemis  meraores,  tedloque  reponunt  : 

It  nigrum  campis  agmen,  praedamque  per  herbas 

Convedlant   callc  angufto  :   pars  grandia  trudunt 

Obnixse  trumenta  humeris  :   pars  agmina  cogunt, 

Caitigantque  moras  :  opere  omnis  femita  fervet. 

JEneid.  iv.  397. 

The  following  fimlle  has  not  any  one  beauty  to 
recommend  it.  The  fubjeft  is  Amata,  the  wife  of 
King  Latinus. 

Turn  vero  Infelix,  ingentibus^  excita  monfiris, 
Immenfam  fine  more  furit  lymphata  per  urbem  ; 
Ceu  quondam  torto  volitans  fub  verbere  turbo. 
Quern  pucri  magno  in  gyro  vacua  atria  circum 
latent!  kulo  exercent.     Il!e  a£lus  habena 
Curvatis  fertur  fpatiis  :   llupet  infcia  turba, 
Impubefque  manus,  mirata  volubile  buxuni  ; 
Dant  aninios  plagie.     Non  curfu  fegnior  illo 
Per  niedias  urbes  agitur,  populofque  teroces. 

JEnc'id.  vii.  376. 

This  fimile  feenis  to  }:order  upon  the  burlefque. 

An  error  oppofite  to  the  former,  is  the  introduc- 
ing a  refembhng  image,  fo  elevated  or  gjreat  as  to 
bear  no  proportion  to  the  principal  fubjed.  Their 
remarkable  difparity,  feizing  the  mind,  never  fails  tci 
deprefs  the  principal  fubjecl  by  contrafl,  inftead  of 

railing 

*  ^nd  accordingly  Demetrius  Phalerius  fof  Elocution,  feft.  85.)  ob. 
fervcs,  tliat  it  has  a  better  cfFeti  lo  compare  luiall  things  to  great  than 
great  things  to  finall. 


Ch.  XIX*  Comparifons,  i  7  y 

raifing  it  by  refemblance  :  and  if  the  difparity  be 
very  great,  the  fimile  dep;enerate3  into  buricfquc  ^ 
nothing  being  more  ridiculous  than  to  force  an  ob- 
jed  out  of  its  proper  rank  in  nature,  by  equalling  it 
with  one  greatly  fuperior  or  greatly  inierior.  Tlii^s 
\vill  be  evident  from  the  following  coinparifons. 

Fervet  opus,  redolentque  thymo  fragrantta  niella. 
Ac  veluti  lentis  Cyclopes  fulmina  inallis 
Cum  properant  :   alii  taurinis  tolHbus  a'lras 
Accipiunt,  redduntque  :  alii  (tiidentia  tingunt 
Biv'd  lacu  :   geuiii  impofuis  incudibus  y^tna  : 
Illi  inter  fefe  magna  vi  brachia  tollunt 
In  numerum  ;   verfantque  tenaci  forcipe  ferrum. 
Non  alitor  (fi  parva  licet  componere  mai^nisj 
Cecropias  innatus  apes  amor  urget  habeiidi, 
Munere  quamqiie  fuo.      Grandxvis  oppida  curse, 
Et  munire  favos,  et  Dasdala  fmgeie  teita. 
At  teifas  multa  referunt  fe  no6te  minores,  > 
Crura  thymo  plenae:  pafcuntur  et  arbuta  paiTim, 
Et  glaucas  falices,  caiiamque  crocumque  nibeniem, 
£t  pinguem  tiliam,  et  terrugineos  hyacinthos. 
Oninibus  una  quies  operum,  labor  omnibus  nnus. 

Ceorcic.  iv.  169. 

The  Cyclopes  make  a  better  figure  in  the  follow- 
jng  fimile  : 

-The  Thracian  leader  prefl, 


With  eager  courage,  far  before  the  reft  ; 
Him  Ajax  met,  inflam'd  with  equal  rage  : 
Between  the  wond'ring  hods  the  cliiefs  engage  ; 
Tneir  weighty  weapons  round  their  -heads  they  throw, 
Andfwift,  and  heavy,  falls  each  thund'ring  blow. 
As  when  in  jEtna's'caves  the  giant  brood. 
The  one-ey'd  fervants  of  the  Lemnian  god. 
In  order  round  the  burning  anvil  {land. 
And  torge,  with  weighty  itrokcs,  the  forked  brand  j 
The  ihaking  hills  their  tervid  toils  conftfs. 
And  echoes  rattling  through  each  dark  reccfs  : 
De  rag'd  i\vt  fight.  Epigoniady  h.  8. 

Turn 


172  Comparlfom.  Ch.  XIX» 

Turn  Bit  Ian  ai'(jentem  oculis  animifque  frementem  ; 
Noil  jaculo  neque  enim  jaculo vitam  ille  dediffet; 
Sed  magnum  itiidens  contorta  falarica  venit 
Fulminis  aila  modo,  quam  nee  duo  taurea  terga, 
Ntc  diiplici  fquaiVia  lorica  fidelis  et  auro 
Siiftinuit  :  collapfa  riiunt  immania  membra  i 
Dat  tellus  gemitum,  et  clypeum  fuper  intonat  ingens. 
Qi^ialis  in  Euboico  Baiarum  littore  quondam 
Saxea  pila  cadit,  magnis  quam  molibus  ante 
Conftruilam  jaciunt  ponto  :  fic  ilia  ruinam 
Prona  trahit,  penitufque  vadis  iliifa  recumbit : 
Miicent  fe  maria,  et  nigras  attolluntur  arenas  : 
Turn  IbniUi  Prochyfa  alta  tremit,  durumque  cubilc 
Inarime  Jovis  imperils  impolla  Typhoeo. 

Mne'td.  ix.  703. 

^    Loud  as  a  bull  makes  hill  and  valley  ring, 
{50  roai'd  the  lock  when  it  releas'd  the  fpring. 

Odyjfey,  xxi.  51. 

Such  a  fimile  upon  the  fimplefl:  of  all  adions,  that 
of  opening  a  door,  is  pure  burlefque. 

A  writer  of  delicacy  will  avord  drawing  his  com- 
parifons  from  any  image  that  is  naufeous,  ugly,  or 
remarkably  difagreeable  :  for  however  ftrong  the  re- 
femblance  may  be,  more  will  be  loft  than  gained  by 
fuch  comparifon.  Therefore  I  cannot  help  condemn- 
jng,  though  with  fome  reludance,  the  following  fma-. 
jle,  or  rather  metaphor, 

O  thou  fond  many  !   with  what  loud  applaufe 
Did'ft  thou  beat  heav'n  with  bleffing  Bolingbroke 
Before  he  was  what  thou  would'ft  have  him  be  ? 
And  now  being  trimm'd  up  in  thine  own  defires. 
Thou,  beaflly  Feeder,  art  fo  full  of  him. 
That  thou  provok'ft  thyfelf  to  cad  him  up. 
And  fo,  thou  common  dog,  didlt  thou  diigorge 
Thy  glutton  bofora  of  the  royal  Richajd, 

And 


Ch.  XIX*  C-Qmparifo7is.  173 

And  now  thou  wonld'ft  eat  thy  dead  vomit  up, 
And  howril  to  find  it. 

Second ^arty  Henry  IV.  aft  i.fc.  6. 

The  ftrongefl  objecllon  that  can  lie  againll  a  com- 
parifon  is,  that  it  confifts  in  words  only,  not  in  fenfe. 
Such  falfe  coin,  or  ballard  wit,  does  extremely  well 
in  burlefque  ;  but  is  far  below  the  dignity  of  the 
epic,  or  of  any  ferious  compolition  : 

The  noble  fifler  of  Poplicola, 
The  moon  of  Rome  ;  chalie  as  the  ificle 
That's  curdled  by  the  froll  from  pnrel'l  fnow. 
And  hangs  on  Dian's  temple. 

Coriolanus,  a5i  ^•fc  3, 

There  is  evidently  no  refemblance  betwe-en  an  ificle 
and  a  woman,  chafte  or  unchafte  :  but  chafiiity  Is 
cold  in  a  metaphorical  fenfe,  and  an  ificle  is  cold  in 
a  proper  fenfe  :  and  this  verbal  refemblance,  in  the 
hurry  and  glow  of  compofmg,  has  been  thought  a 
fufficient  foundation  for  the  fimile.  Such  phantom 
fimiles  are  mere  witticifms,  which  ought  to  have  no 
quarter,  except  v/here  purpofely  introduced  to  pro- 
voke laughter.  Lucian,  in  his  differtation  upon  hif- 
tory,  talking  of  a  certain  author,  makes  the  following 
companion,  which  is  verbal  merely  : 

This  author's  defcriptions  are  fo  cold,  that  they  furpafs 
the  Cafpian  fnow,  and  all  the  ice  of  the  north. 

Virgil  has  not  efcaped  this  puerility  : 

Galatha^a  thymo  mihi  dulcior  HybLx. 

Bucol.  vii.  37. 

Ego  Sardois  videar  tibi  amarior  herbis. 

Ih'id.  41. 
Gallo. 


^74  Companfons,  Ch.  aIX# 

Gallo,  cujus  amer  tantum  niihi  crefcit  in  horas, 
Quantum  vere  novo  viridis  le  fubjicit  alniis. 

Bucol.  X.  37. 

Nor  Taflb,  in  his  Aminta  : 

Picciola  e'  l'  ape,  e  fa  col  picctol  morfo 
Pur  gravi,  e  pur  molefte  le  ferite  \ 
Ma,  qual  cofa  e  piii  picciola  d'amore, 
Ss  in  ogni  breve  fpatio  antra,  e  s'  afconde 
In  ogni  breve  fpatio  ?  hor,  lotto  a  I'ombra 
De  le  paipebre,  hor  tra  minuii  rivi 
D'un  biondo  crine,  hor  dentro  le  pozzctte 
Che  forma  un  dolce  rifo  in  bclla  guancia  ; 
E  pur  fa  tamo  grandi,  e  fi  mortali, 
E  cofi  immedicabili  ie  piaghe. 

Aa  2.fc.  r. 

Hor  Boileau,  the  chafleH:  of  all  writers  j  and  that 
even  in  his  art  of  poetry  : 

Ainfi  tel  autrefois,  qu'on  vit  avec  Faret 
Charbonner  de  fes  vers  les  mnrs  d'un  cabaret. 
Sen  va  mal  a  propos  d'une  voix  infolente, 
Chanter  du  peuple  Hebreu  la  fuite  triomphante, 
Et  pourfuivant  Mcife  au  travers  des  deferfs, 
Court  avec  Pharaon  fe  noyer  dans  les  mers. 

Chant.  I.  I.  21. 

Mais  allons  voir  le  Vrai  jufqu.'en  fa  fourcc  meme. 
Un  devot  aux  yeux  creux,  et  d'abllinence  blcme, 
S'il  n'a  point  le  coeur  julte,  cli:  atfreux  devant  Dieu. 
L'Evangile  au  Chretien  ne  dit,  en  aucun  lieu, 
Sois  devot  :  elledit,  Soisdoux,  (imple,  equitable  : 
.Car  d'un  devot  fouvent  au  Chretien  veri'rable 
La  diftance  elt  deux  fois  plus  longue,  a  nion  avis, 
Qiic  uu  Pole  Antarctique  au  Detroit  ue  Davis. 

Boileau y  Satire  1 1 . 

But  for  their  fpirits  and  fouls 


Tills  word  rebellion  had  lro:i:e  ihcm  up 
As  filh  are  in  a  pond. 

Second  party  Henry  W .  aB  \.Jc,  3. 

^Hcen. 


Ch*XIX.  Comparifons*  ijr^ 

^een.    The  pretty  vaulting  fea  refused  to  drown  me. 
Knowing,  that  thou  wou'dft  have  me  drown'd  on  fhore, 
With  tears  as  fait  as  Tea,  through  thy  unkindnefs. 

Second  party  Henry  VI.  ad  '7^'fc.  6, 

Here  there  is  no  manner  of  refemblance  but  in  the 
woid  drown  ;  for  there  is  no  real  refemblance  be- 
tween being  drown'd  at  fea,  and  dying  of  grief  at 
land.  But  perhaps  this  fort  of  tinfel  wit  may  have  a 
propriety  in  it,  when  ufed  to  exprefs  an  affeeled,  not 
a  real  pallion,  which  was  the  Queen's  cafe. 

Pope  has  feveral  fmiiles  of  the  fame  ftamp.  t 
fhall  tranfcribe  one  or  two  from  the  -E^ay  on  Man, 
the  graveft  and  moil  inftrudive  of  all  his  perform- 
ances : 

And  hence  one  mafter  paflion  in  the  bread. 
Like  Aaron's  ferpent,  fvvallows  up  the  reft. 

Epi/i.  1.  I.  131. 

And  again,  talking  of  this  fame  ruling  or  mafler 
pafTion  : 

Nature  its  mother,  H^jbit  is  its  nurfe  : 
Wit,  fplrit,  faculties,  bat  make  it  worfe  ; 
Reafon  itfelf  but  gives  it  c^g&  and  power  ; 
As  heuv'n's  blefs'dbeara  turns  vinegar  more  four. 

Ibid,  I,  145. 

Lord  Bolingbroke,  fpeaking  of  hiflorians  : 

Where  their  finccrity  as  to  fa6l  is  doubtful,  we  ftrike  out 
truth  by  the  confrontation  of  different  accounts  ;  as  ws 
(frike  out  fparks  of  fire  by  the   collifion  of  flints  and  fleei. 

Let  us  vary  the  phrafe  a  very  little,  and  there  will 
not  remain  a  faadow  of  refemblance.     Thus, 

We 


i7<^  Comparifons.  Ch.  XIX, 

We  dlfcavcr  truth  by  the  confrontation  of  different  ac- 
counts ;  as  we  ftrike  out  fparks  of  fire  by  the  collifion  of 
flints  and  fteel. 

Racine  makes  Pyrrhus  fay  to  Andromaque, 

Vaincu,  charge  de  fers,  de  regrets  cbnfunae, 
Brule  de  pkis  de  feux  que  je  n'en  aUumai, 
Helas  !  fus-je  jamais  fi  cruel  que  vous  I'etes  ? 

And  Orefles  in  the  fame  drain  : 

Q^i.  les  Scythes  font  moins  cruel  qu'  Hermoine. 

Similes  of  this  kind  put  one  in  mind  of  a  ludicrous 
French  fong  : 

Jc  croyois  Jannetoii 
Audi  douce  que  belle  : 
Je  croyois  Janneton 
Plus  douce  qu'un  mouton  ; 

Helas  !   helas  ! 
EUe  eft  cent  fois,  mille  fois,  plus  cruelle 
Qi^ie  n'eft  le  tigre  aux  hois. 


Again 


Helas  !  I'amour  m'a  pris, 
Comme  le  chat  fait  la  fouris. 


A  vulgiar  Irifli  ballad  begins  thus : 

I  have  as  much  love  in  flore 
As  there's  apples  in  Portmore. 

Where  the  fubje£l  is  burlefque  or  ludicrous,  fuch 
fiitiilcs  are  far  from  being  improper.  Horace  fays 
pleafantly, 

Qyanquam  tu  levior  cortice. 

L.  3.  ode  9. 

And 


Ch.  XIX.  Comparlfons*  177 

And  Shakefpear, 

In  breaking  oaths  he's  ftronger  than  Hercules. 

And  this  leads  me  to  obferve,  that  befide  the  fore- 
going comparifons,  which  are  all  ferious,  there  is  a 
^ecies,  the  end  and  purpofe  of  which  is  to  excite  gai- 
ety or  mirth.     Take  the  following  examples : 

FalftafF,  fpeaking  to  his  page  : 

I  do  here  walk  before  thee,  like  a  fow  that  hath  over* 
whelmed  all  her  litter  but  one. 

Second  part  ^  Henry  IV.  a£l  l.fc.  4. 

I  think  he  is  not  a  pick-purfe,  nor  a  horfe-ftealer  ;  but 
for  his  verity  in  love,  I  do  think  him  as  concave  as  a  cov- 
er'd  goblet,  or  a  worra-eaten  nut. 

As  you  like  itjcSf  2t'f'^'  lo* 

This  fword  a  dagger  had  his  page, 
That  was  but  little  for  his  age  ; 
And  theretore  waited  on  him  fo. 
As  dwarts  upon  knights-errant  do. 

HudibraSf  canto  1. 

Defcription  of  Hudibras's  horfe  : 

He  was  well  ftay'd,  and  in  his  gait 
Preferv'd  a  grave,  majeftic  ftate. 
At  fpur  or  fwitch  no  more  he  (kipt. 
Or  mended  pace,  than  Spaniard  whipt  : 
And  yet  fo  hery,  he  would  bound 
As  if  he  griev'd  to  touch  the  ground  : 
That  Caefar's  horfe,  who,  as  fame  goes. 
Had  corns  upon  his  feet  and  toes. 
Was  not  by  half  fo  tender  hooft. 
Nor  trod  upon  the  ground  fo  foft. 
And  as  that  bead  would  kneel  and  ftoop, 
(Some  write)  to  take  his  rider  up  j 


Vol.  II.  M 


^^ 


%y^  Comparifons,  Ch.  XIX* 


So  HurHbras  his  ('tis  well  known) 
Would  often  do  to  fet  him  down. 


Canto  I. 


ilDnour  is,  like  a  widow  won 
With  briik  aitempft  and  putting  On, 
With  entering  manfully,  and  uru,ing  ; 
Not  flow  approaches,  like  a  virgin. 

Canto  I. 

The  fun  had  long  fince  in  the  lap 
Of  Thetis  taken  out  his  nap  ; 
And,  like  a  lobfter  boil'd,  the  morn 
From  black  to  red  began  to  turn. 

Part  2.  canto  2. 

Books,  like  men  their  authors,  have  but  one  way  of 
comirtg  into  the  world  ;  but  there  are  ten  thoufand  to  go 
out  of  it,  and  return  no  more. 

Tale  of  a  Tub. 

And  in  this  the  world  may  perceive  the  difference  be- 
tween the  integrity  of  a  generous  author,  and  that  of  a 
common  friend.  The  latter  is  obferved  to  adhere  clofe  in 
profpcrity  ;  but  on  the  decline  of  fortune,  to  drop  fudden- 
ly  off  :  whereas  the  generous  author,  jufl:  on  the  contrary, 
finds  his  hero  on  the  dunghill,  from  thence  by  gradual  fteps 
raifes  him  to  a  throne,  and  then  immediately  %\ithdraws, 
expeding  not  fo  much  as  thanks  for  his  pains. 

Tale  of  a  Tub, 

The  mofl  accomplidi'd  way  of  ufing  books  at  prefent  is, 
to  ferve  them  as  fome  do  lords,  learn  their //V/Vj,  and  then 
brag  of  their  acquaintance. 

Tale  of  a  Tub. 

35ix'd  in  a  chair,  the  beau  impatient  fits. 
While  fpouts  rim  clatt'ring  o'er  the  roof  by  fits  ; 
And  ever  and  anon  with  frightful  din 
The  leather  founds  ;  he  trembles  from  within. 
So  when  troy  chairmen  bore  the  wooden  (teed, 
r     .  Pregnant  with  Greeks,  impatient  to  be  freed, 

(Thof<r 


*4kd..k.- 


Ch,  XIX.  Comparifons,  179 

(Thofe  bully  Greeks,  who  as  the  moderns  do, 
Inftead  of  paying  chairmen,  run  them  through,} 
Laocoon  ftruck  the  outfide  with  his  fjiear, 
And  each  imprifon'd  hero  quak'd  for  tear. "" 

Defcription  of  a  City  Shower.     Swift. 

Clubs,  diamonds,  hearts,  in  wild  diforder  feen. 
With  throngs  promifcuous  ftrow  the  level  green. 
Thus  when  difpers'd  a  routed  army  runs. 
Of  Afia's  troops,  and  Afric's  fable  fons. 
With  like  confufion,  different  nations  fly, 
Of  various  habit,  and  of  various  dye. 
The  pierc'd  battalions  difunited,  fall. 
In  heaps  on  heaps  ;  one  fate  o'erwhelms  them  alL 

Rape  of  the  Locky  canto  3. 

He  does  not  confider  that  fincerity  in  love  is  as  much  out 
©f  fafhion  as  fweet  fnuff  j  nobody  takes  it  now. 

Carelefs  Hujband, 

Lady  Eafy.  My  dear,  I  am  afraid  you  have  provoked  her 
a  little  too  far. 

Sir  Charles.    O  !  Not  at  aJl.    You  fhall  fee,  I'll  fweeten 
her,  and  fhe'll  cool  like  a  difli  of  tea. 

Ibid, 


CHAP. 


M  ft 


CHAP.     XX. 

Figures, 

JL  HE  endlefs  variety  of  expreflions  broiigfit 
under  the  head  of  tropes  and  figures  by  anc'ent  crit- 
ics and  grammaiians,  makes  it  evident,  that  they  had 
no  precife  criterion  for  diflinguifliing  tropes  and  fig- 
ures from  phiin  language.  It  was  accordingly  my 
opinion,  that  httle  could  be  made  of  them  in  the  way 
of  rational  criticifm  ;  till  difcovering,  by  a  fort  of  ac- 
cident, thrvt  many  of  them,  depend  on  principles  for- 
merly explained,  I  gladly  embrace  the  opportunity  to 
fhcvv  the  influence  of  thefe  principles  v^^bere  it  would 
be  the  leait  expeQcd.  Confining  myfelf  therefore 
to  fucb  figures,  I  am  luckily  freed  from  much  trafli ; 
v^dthout  dropping,  as  far  as  I  remember,  any  trope  or 
figure  that  merits  a  proper  name.  And  I  begin  v/ith 
Profopopoeia  or  perfonification,  which  is  juftly  intitled 
to  the  firil  place. 

SECT.     I. 

Perfonification. 


Ti 


HE  beflowing  fenfibility  and  voluntary 
motion  upon  things  inanimate,  is  fo  bold  a  figure,  as 
to  require,  one  fhould  imagine,  very  pecuhar  circum- 
ftanees  for  operating  the  delufion  :  and  yet,  in  the 
language  of  poetry,  we  find  variety  of  expreffions, 
which  though  commonly  reduced  to  that  figure,  are 
ufcd  without  ceremony,  or  any  fort  of  preparation  ; 
as,  fpr  example,  thirjiy  ground,  hungry  church-yard, 
furious  dart,  angry  ocean.  Thefe  epithets,  in  their 
proper  meaning,  are  attributes  of  fenfible  beings  : 
what  is  their  meaning  when  applied  to  things  inani- 
h  mate 


Sect.  L  Figurei,  iSr 

mate  ?  do  they  make  us  conceive  the  ground,  the 
church-yard,  the  dart,  the  ocean,  to  be  endued  with 
animal  fundions  ?  This  is  a  curious  inquiry  ;  and 
whether  fo  or  not,  it  cannot  be  declined  in  handling 
the  prefent  fubjed. 

The  mind,  agitated  by  certain  pafTions,  is  prone  to 
beftow  fenfibihty,  upon  things  inanimate.*  This  is 
an  additional  infliance  of  the  influence  of  paffion  up-s 
on  our  opinions  and  behef.f  I  give  examples.  An- 
tony, mourning  over  the  body  of  Caefar  murdered 
in  the  fenate-houfe,  vents  his  paffion  in  the  follovi^ing 
words  : 

Antony.     O  pardon  me,  thou  bleeding  piece  of  earth, 
That  I  am  meek  and  gentle  with  thefe  butcfiers. 
Thou  art  the  ruins  of  the  nobleft  man 
That  ever  lived  in  the  liue  of  time. 

yulius  Ccefarj  act  t^.  fc.  ^, 

Here  Antony  m.uft  have  been  impreffed  with  a  notion, 
that  the  body  of  Cgefar  was  liflening  to  him,  without 
which  the  fpeech  would  be  foohlh  and  abfurd.  Nor 
will  it  appear  llrange,  confidering  what  is  faid  in  the 
chapter  above  cited,  that  paffion  ffiould  have  fuch 
power  over  the  mind  of  man.  In  another  example 
of  the  fame  kind,  the  earth,  as  a  common  mother, 
is  animated  to  give  refuge  againft  a  father's  unkind- 
nefs  : 

Almer'ia.     O  Earth,  behold,  I  kneel  upon  thy  bofom, 
And  bend  my  flowing  eyes  to  itreani  upon 
Thy  face,  imploring  thee  that  thou  wilt  yield  ! 
Open  thy  bowels  of  compallion,  take 
Into  thy  womb  the  lall  and  molt  forlorn 
Of  all  thy  race.     Hear  me  thou  common  parent  ; 

. I  have  no  parent  elfe. Be  thou  a  mother, 

And 
*  Page  162.  +  Chap.  2.  part  5. 

M  3 


1 82  Figuref*  Ch.  XX* 

And  ftep  between  me  and  the  curfe  of  him. 
Who  was — who  was,  but  is  no  more  a  faiher  ; 
But  brands  my  innocence  with  horrid  crimes  ; 
And  lor  the  tender  names  of  child  and  dauzhter, 
jNow  calls  me  murderer  and  parrtcide. 

Mourning  Bride y  a£l  ^..fc.  7. 

Plaintive  pafTions  are  extremely  folicitous  for  vent ; 
and  a  foliloquy  commonly  anfwers  the  purpofe  :  but 
■when  fuch  a  palTion  becomes  exceffive,  it  cannot  be 
gratified  but  by  fympathy  from  others  ;  and  if  denied 
that  confolation  in  a  natural  way,  it  will  convert  even 
things  inanimate  into  fympathifmg  beings.  Thus 
Philoftetes  complains  to  the  rocks  and  promontories 
of  toe  ifle  of  Lem.nos  j*  and  Alceftes  dying,  invokes 
the  fun,  the  light  of  day,  the  clouds,  the  earth,  her 
hufband's  palace,  &c.t  Mofchus,  lamenting  the 
death  of  Bion,  conceives,  that  the  birds,  the  foun- 
tains, the  trees,  lament  with  him.  The  fliepherd, 
who  in  "Virgil  bewails  the  death  of  Daphnis,  exprelT- 
eth  kimfelf  thus  • 

Daphni,  tuum  Poenos  etiam  ingemuilTe  leones 
Interitum,  montefquc  feri  fylvseque  loquuntur. 

Eclogue^  V.  27. 

Again  : 

Ilium  etiam  lauri,  ilium  etiam  flevere  myric:e. 
Pinifer  ilium  etiam  fola  fub  rupe  jacentem 
M^nalus,  et  gelidi  fleverunt  faxa  Lycaei. 

Eclogue,  X.  13. 


Again  : 


Ho  viflo  al  pianto  mio 
Rerponder  per  pietate  i  fadi  e  I'onde  ; 

'  E  fofpirar 
*  PhiloQetcs  of  Sophocles,  a£l,  4.  fc.  9.. 

+  Alccfles  of  Euripides,  afl  2.  fc.  1. 


V 


ISect.  t  Biuret.  183 

E  fofpirar  le  fronde 
Ho  vifto  al  pianto  mio. 
Ma  non  ho  vifio  mai, 
Ne  fpero  di  veclere 
Compaffion  ne  la  crudele,  e  bella. 

Ainintd  di  Tajfo,  aSf  l.fc.  2^ 

That  fuch  perfonificatlon  is  derived  from  nature,  will 
not  admit  the  lead  remaining  doubt,  after  finding  it 
in  poems  of  the  darkeft  ages  and  remoteft  ecu  nines. 
No  figure  is  more  frequent  in  Oflian*s  works  j  for 
example, 

The  battle  is  over,  faid  the  King,  and  I  behold  the  blood 
of  my  friends.  Sad  is  the  heath  of  Lena,  and  mournful 
the  oaks  of  Cromla. 

Again  : 

The  fword  of  Gau!  trembles  at  his  fide,  and  longs  to 
glitter  in  his  hand. 

King  Richard  having  got  intelligence  of  Boling- 
broke*s  invafion,  fays,  upon  landing  in  England  from 
his  Irilh  expedition,  in  a  mixture  of  joy  and  refent- 
ment, 

I  weep  for  joy 


To  (land  upon  my  kingdom  once  sgain. 

Dear  earth,  I  do  falute  thee  with  my  hand, 

Though  rebels  wound  thee  with  their  horfes'  hoofs. 

As  a  long  parted  mother  with  her  child 

Plays   fondly   with  her  tears,  and  fmiles  in  meeting  ; 

So  weeping,  fir.iling,  greet  I  thte,  my  earth, 

And  do  thee  favour  with  my  royal  hands. 

Feed  not  thy-f 'vereign's  tee,  my  gentle  earth, 

Nor  with  thy  fweets  comtort  his  rav'nous  fcnfe  : 

But  let  thy  fpiiters  that  fuck  up  thy  vtnorn, 

And  hcav) -gaited  toads,  lie  in  their  v^ay  j 

Doing 
M  4 


184  Figures.  Ch.  XX. 

Doing  annoyance  to  the  treach'rous  feet, 
Whic:^.  v.ith  ufiir^ing  fteps  do  trample  thee. 
Yield  dinging  neiils  to  niine  enemies  ; 
And,  when  they  from  thy  bofom  pluck  a  flower, 
Guard  it,  I  pr'ythee,  with  a  lurkini^  adder  ; 
Whofe  double  tongue  may  with  a  mortal  touch 
Throw  death  upon  thv  fovereign's  enemies. 
Mock  not  my  fenfelefs  conjuratic.i,  Lords  : 
This  earth  (hal  have  a  feeling  ;    and  ihefe  Itones 
Prove  armed  foldier?.  ere  her  native  king 
Shall  faulter  under  toul  rebellious  arms. 

Richard  II.  aSl  yjc.  2. 

After  a  long  voyage  it  was  cuflomary  among  the 
ancients  to  falute  the  natal  foil.  A  long  voyage  be- 
ing of  old  a  greater  enterprife  than  at  prefent,  the 
fafe  return  to  one's  country  after  much  fatigue  and 
danger,  was  a  delightful  circumflance  ;  and  it  was 
natural  to  give  the  natal  foil  a  temporary  life,  in  or- 
der to  fympathife  with  the  traveller.  See  an  exam- 
ple, Agamemnon  of  Efchilus,  a6l  3.  in  the  beginning. 
Regret  for  leaving  a  place  one  has  been  accuflomed 
to,  has  the  fame  eifed.* 

Terror  produceth  the  fame  efFe£l:  :  it  is  com- 
municated in  thought  to  every  thing  around,  even  tg 
things  inanimate  : 

Speaking  of  Polyphemus, 

Ciamorem  immenfum  tollit,  quo  pontus  et  omnes 
Intremuere  undse,  penitufque  exterrita  tellus 
Italias. 

Mneid,  ili.  672, 

As  when  old  Ocean  roars, 


And  heaves  huge  farces  to  the  tnmbiing  fliores. 

Iliad  ii.  249. 
Go, 

•  Philofletes  of  Sophocles,  at  tbc  clafe. 


» 


Sect.  I,  Fi^uns,  i^^ 

Go,  view  the  fettling  fea.  The  ftormy  wind  is  laid  ;  but 
the  billows  ftill  tremble  on  the  deep,  and  feem  to  fear  the 
blaft. 

Fingal. 

Racine,  in  the  tragedy  of  Phedra,  defcrlbing  the  fea- 
monfter  that  deftroyed  Hippolytus,  conceives  the  lea 
itfelf  to  be  ilruck  with  terror  as  well  as  the  fpecla- 
tors : 

Le  flot  qui  Tapporta  recule  epouvante. 

A  man  alfo  naturally  communicates  hjis  joy  to  all 
objeds  around,  animate  pr  inanimate  : 

= As  when  to  them  who  fail 

Beyond  the  Cape  of  Hope,  and  now  are  paft 

Alozambic,  off  at  fea  north-caft  winds  blov7 

Sabean  odour  tiora  the  fpicy  fliore 

Ot  Arabia  the  Bleft  ;  with  fuch  delay 

Well  pleas'd,  they  flack  their  courfe,  and  many  a  leapuo 

Cheer'd  with  the  grateful  fmeli  old  Ocean  fniije^. 

Paradije  Lojfy  b.  4. 

I  have  been  profufe  of  examples,  to  fiiow  what 
power  many  paffions  have  to  animate  their  objects. 
In  all  the  foregoing  examples,  the  perfonificalion,  if 
I  miftakc  not,  is  fo  complete  as  to  ajford  convidion, 
momentary  indeed,  of  life  and  intelligence.  But  it 
is  evident  from  numberlefs  inftances,  that  perfonifica- 
tion  is  not  always  fo  complete  :  it  is  a  common  fig- 
ure in  defcriptivc  poetry,  underflood  to  be  the  lan- 
guage of  the  writer,  and  not  of  the  perfons  he  de- 
fcribes :  in  this  cafe,  it  feldom  or  never  come*  up  to 
conviction,  even  momentary,  of  life  and  intelligence. 
I  give  the  following  examples.  ♦, 

Firft  in  his  eaft  the  glorious  lamp  was^fcen, 
Regent  of  day,  and  all  \W  horizion  round 

Inveded 


iS(5  Figures,  Ch.  Xi. 

Inverted  with  bright  rays  ;  jocund  to  run 
His  longitude  through  heav'n's  high  road  :  the  gray 
Dawn  and  the  Pleiades  before  him  danc'd, 
Shedding  fweet  influence.     Lefs  bright  the  moony 
But  oppofite,  in  levell'd  we(t  was  fct 
'    His  mirror,  with  full  face  borrowing  her  light. 
From  him  ;  for  other  light /A^  needed  none. 

Paradije  Lojiy  b.  7.  /.  370.* 

Night's  candles  are  burnt  out,  and  jocund  day 
Stands  tiptoe  on  the  miity  mountain-tops. 

Romeo  and  Juliet ta£i  "^^'f^-  7» 

But  look,  the  morn,  in  ruiTet  mantle  clad. 
Walks  o'er  the  dew  of  yon  high  ealhvard  hill. 

Hamlet t  a£l  \.fc.  I. 

It  may,  I  prefume,  be  taken  for  granted,  that,  in  the 
foregoing  inflances,  the  perfonification,  either  with 
the  poet  or  his  reader,  amounts  not  to  a  conviftion 
of  intelligence  :  that  the  fun,  the  moon,  the  day,  the 
morn,  are  not  here  underftood  to  be  fenfible  beings. 
What  then  is  the  nature  of  this  perfonification  ?  I 
think  it  niuft  be  referred  to  the  imagination  :  the  in- 
aniniate  objed  is  imagined  to  be  a  fenfible  being,  but 
without  any  convidion,  even  for  a  moment,  that  it 
really  is  fo.  Ideas  or  fictions  of  imagination  have 
power  to  raife  emotions  in  the  mind  ;t  and  when  any 
thing  inanimate  is,  in  imagination,  fuppofed  to  be  a 
fenfible  being,  it  makes  by  that  means  a  greater  fig- 
ure than  when  an  idea  is  formed  of  it  according  to 

truth. 

**  l^hc'chafiitv  of  the  E'lgllfh  langu?ge,  which  in  common  nfaj^e  dif- 
tingnifhis  by  j^erd'  rs  no  words  but  what  fij:,nifv  beings  male  and  ft  male, 
give.i  thus  a  fine  opp.'-.t'initv  fnr  the  piofopopceia  ;  a  beai:ty  unknown 
in  other  languages,  w'nere  cveiy  word  is  n^alculine  or  feminine. 

+  See  Appendix,  cootaiaing  definitions  and  explanations  of  tcrms^ 


Sect.  I.  Figures.  iQy 

truth.  This  fort  of  perfonification,  however,  is  far 
inferior  to  the  other  in  elevation.  Thus  perfonifica- 
tion is  of  two  kinds.  The  firft,  being  more  noble, 
may  be  termed  pajfionate  perfonification  :  the  other, 
more  humble,  defcriptive  perfonf cation  ;  becaufe  fel- 
dom  or  never  is  perfonification  in  a  defcription  carri- 
ed to  convidion. 

The  imagination  is  fo  lively  and  aclive,  that  its  im- 
ages are  raifed  with  very  little  effort  j  and  this  julli- 
fies  the  frequent  ufe  of  defcriptive  perfonification. 
This  figure  abounds  in  Milton's  Allegro^  and  Penfc' 
rofo. 

Abflrad  and  general  terms,  as  well  as  particular 
obje^s,  are  often  neceffary  in  Poetry.  Such  terms 
however  are  not  well  adapted  to  poetry,  becaufe  they 
fuggefl  not. any  image  :  I  can  readily  form  an  image 
of  Alexander  or  Achilles  in  vi-rath  ;  but  I  cannot 
form,  an  image  of  wrath  in  the  abflraft,  or  of  wrath 
independent  of  a  perfon.  Upon  that  account,  in 
works  addreffed  to  the  imagination,  abftraft  terms 
are  frequently  perfonified  ;  but  fuch  perfonification 
refls  upon  imagination  merely,  not  upon  convidion, 

Sed  mihi  vel  Tellns  optem  prius  ima  dchifcat  ; 
Vel  Pater  omnipotens  adigat  me  fulmine  ad  umbras, 
Pallentes  umbras  Erebi,  noftemque  profundam, 
Ante pudor,  quam  te  violo,  aut  tua  jura  refolvo. 

jEneic/.  iv.  /.  24. 

Thus,  to  explain  the  efFecls  of  Hander,  it  is  imagin- 
ed to  be  a  voluntary  agent. 

■ No,  'tis  Slander  ; 

Whofe  edge  is  fnarper  than  the  fvvord  :    whofe  tongue 
Out-venoms  all  the  worms  of  Nile  ;  whofe  breath 
Rides  on  the  polling  vvinds,  and  doth  belie 
All  corner^'  of  the  world,  kings,  queens,  and  ftates, 

Maids, 


1 88  Figures.  Ch.XX. 

Majds,  matrons  :  nay,  the  fecrets  of  the  grave 
This  viperous  (lander  enters. 

Shakejpcary  Cymbeline,  afi  '^•fc.  4. 

As  alfo  human  paflions  :    take  the  following  ex- 
ample. 

-For  Pleafure  and  Revenge 


Have  ears  more  deaf  than  adders,  to  the  voice 
Oi  any  true  decifion. 

Troilus  and  Crejpda,  aEl  l.fc.  4. 

Virgil  explains  fame  and  its  efFefts  by  a  ftill  greater 
variety  of  action.*  And  Shakefpear  perfonifies  death 
and  its  operations  in  a  manner  fmgularly  fanciful ; 

• Within  the  hollow  crow^n 


That  rounds  the  mortal  temples  ot  a  king, 
Keeps  'I>-ath  his  court  ;  and  there  the  antic  fits, 
Scoffing  his  ftate,  and  grinning  at  his  pomp  ; 
AUovvnig  him  a  breath,  a  little  {ctcio. 
To  monarchi^e,  be  fear'd,  and  kill  with  looks  ; 
Infufing  him  with  felt"  and  vain  conceit, 
As  if  his  fle'ih,  which  wails  about  our  life, 
Were  brafs  impregnable  ;  and  humour'd  thus. 
Comes  at  the  lart,  and  with  a  little  pin 
Bores  through  his  ca(tle-»walls,  and  farewell  king. 

Richard  II.  a£l  1-  Jc.  4. 

]N"ot  lefs  fuccefsfully  is  life  and  aftion  given  even  to 
ileep  : 

King  Henry.  How  many  thoufands  of  my  pooreft  fub- 
jeds 
Are  at  this  hour  afleep  !  O  gentle  Sleep^ 
Nature's  foft  nurfc,  how  have  I  frighted  thee, 
That  thou  no  more  wilt  weigh  my  eyelids  down. 
And  fteep  my  fenfcs  in  forgettulnefs  ? 
\Vhy  rather  Sleep,  lieil  thou  in  fmoky  cribs, 

Upon 

*  yEncid  iv.  173. 


Sect.  I.  Figures.  189 

Upon  uneafy  pallets  ftretching  thee, 

And  hmli'd  with  buzzing  night-flies  to  thy  {lumber, 

Than  in  the  perfum'd  chambers  of  the  great, 

Un'lcr  the  canopies  of  coltly  ftate. 

And  lull'd  with  founds  ui  fweeteft  melody  ? 

O  thou  dull  god,  why  ly"ft  thou  with  the  vile 

In  loathfome  beds,  and  leav'il  the  kingly  couch, 

A  watch-cafe  to  a  common  larum-beli  ? 

Wilt  thou,  upon  the  high  and  giduy  triaft, 

Sa?.!  up  the  Ihip-boy's  eyes,  and  rock  his  brains 

In  cradle  of  the  ruuc  imperious  furge, 

And  in  the  vifitation  of  the  winds, 

Who  iake  the  ruffian  billov;s  by  the  top, 

Curling  their  monitrous  heads,  and  hanging  them 

With  deaf'ning  clamours  in  the  ilippery  fhrouds. 

That,  with  the  hurly  Death  itfelf  awakes  ? 

Cun'ft  thou,  O  p.  itial  Sltep,  give  thy  repofe 

To  the  wet  fo-bby  in  an  hour  fo  rude  ; 

And,  in  the  calmeft  and  the  flilleft  night, 

With  all  appiiinces  and  means  to  boot. 

Deny  it  to  a  King  ?  Then,  happy  low  !  lie  down  ; 

Uneafy  lies  the  head  that  wears  a  crown. 

Second  part,  Henry  IV.  aB  1'  Jc'  I. 

I  (hall  add  one  example  more,  to  fhow  that  defcrip- 
tive  perfonification  may  be  ufed  with  propriety,  even 
where  the  purpofe  of  the  difcourfe  is  inflrudion 
merely: 

Oh  !  let  the  fteps  of  youth  be  cautious. 

How  they  advance  into  a  dangerous  w^orld  ; 

Our  duty  only  can  conduct  us  fafe. 

Our  padions  are  feducers  :  but  of  all. 

The  llrongeft  Love.     He  firlt  approaches  us 

In  childilh  play,  wantoning  in  our  walks  : 

It  heedlefsly  we  wander  aher  him, 

As  he  will  pick  out  all  the  dancing-way, 

We're  lolf,  and  hardly  to  return  again. 

We  fliould  take  warning  :  he  is  painted  blinds, 

To  fhow  us,  if  we  fondly  follow  him, 

The  precipices  we  may  tall  into. 

Therefore 


190  Figures:  Ch.  XX, 

Therefore  let  Firtue  take  him  by  the  hand  : 
Diredled  lb,  he  leads  to  certain  joy. 

Southern, 

Hitherto  fuccefs  has  attended  our  flaps  :  but 
\vhethei"  we  fhall  complete  our  progrefs  with  equal 
fuccefs,  feems  doubtful ;  for  when  we  look  back  to  the 
expreffions  mentioned  in  the  begining,  thirjly  ground, 
furious  dart,  and  fuch  like,  it  feems  no  lefs  difHcult 
than  at  firll,  to  fay  whether  there  be  in  them  any 
fort  of  perfonihcation.  Such  expreffions  evidently 
raife  not  the  flighteft  convidion  of  fenfibility  :  nor 
do  I  think  they  amount  to  defcriptlve  perfonifica- 
tion ;  becaufe,  in  them,  we  do  not  even  figure  the 
ground  or  the  dart  to  be  animated.  If  fo,  they  can- 
not at  all  come  under  the  prefent  fubjed.  To  fhow 
which,  I  fhall  endeavour  to  trace  the  effecl  that  fuch 
expreffions  have  m  the  mind.  Doth  not  the  expref- 
fion  angry  ocean,  for  example,  tacitly  compare  the 
ocean  in  a  ftorm  to  a,  man  in  wrath  ?  By  this  tacit 
comparifon,  the  ocean  is  elevated  above  its  rank  ia 
nature  ;  and  yet  perfonlfication  is  excluded,  becaufe, 
by  the  very  nature  of  comparifon,  the  things  com- 
pared are  kept  diftlndt,  and  the  native  appearance  of 
each  is  preferved.  It  will  be  fhown  afterward,  that 
expreffions  of  this  kind  belong  to  another  figure, 
which  I  term  a  figure  of  fpcech,  and  which  employs 
the  feventh  feftion  of  the  prefent  chapter. 

Though  thus  in  general  we  can  diftinguifli  def- 
criptlve perfonlfication  from  what  is  merely  a  figure 
of  fpeech,  it  is  however,  often  difficult  to  fay,  with 
refpeft  to  fome  expreffions,  whether  they  are  of  the 
one  kind  or  of  the  other.  Take  the  following  in- 
flances. 

The  moon  fhines  bright  :  in  fuch  a  ni^ht  as  this, 
When  the  fwcet  wind  did  gently  h'fs  the  trees. 

And 


S«CT.  I.  Figures.  891 

And  they  did  make  no  nolfe  ;  in  fuch  a  night, 
Troilus  methinks  mountejj  the  Tmjan  v;a!l, 
And  figh'd  his  foul  towards  the  Grecian  tents 
Where  Creflid  lay  that  night. 

Merchant  of  Venice t  a£}  ^'/c.  I, 

_, -. 1  have  fecn 

Th'  atnhiticut  ocean  fweil,  and  rage,  and  foam, 
To  be  exalted  with  the  threat'ning  clouds. 

y alius  Cafar,  a6i  i.fc.  6, 

With  refpe^  to  thefe  and  numberlefs  other  exam- 
ples of  the  fame  Idnd,  it  muft  depend  upon  the  reader, 
whether  they  be  examples  of  per fonifi cation,  or  of 
a  figure  of  fpeech  merely  :  a  fprightly  imagination 
will  advance  them  to  the  former  clafs  j  with  a  plain 
reader  they  will  remain  in  the  latter. 

Having  thus  at  large  explained  the  prefent  figure, 
its  different  kinds,  and  the  principles  upon  v/hlch  it 
is  founded  :  what  comes  next  in  order,  is,  to  fiiow 
in  what  cafes  it  may  be  introduced  with  propriety, 
when  it  is  fuitable,  when  unfuitable.  I  begin  with 
obferving,  that  pafFionate  perfonifi cation  is  not  pro- 
moted by  every  paflion  indifferently.  All  difpiriting 
paffions  are  averfe  to  it  ;  and  remorfe,  in  particular, 
is  too  ferious  and  fevcre  to  be  gratified  with  a  phan- 
tom of  the  mind.  I  cannot  therefore  approve  the 
following  fpeech  of  Enobarbus,  who  had  deferted  his 
mafler  Antony  :  -  "^ 

Be  witnefs  to  me,  O  thou  WefTed  mooft, 
When  men  revolted  (hall  upon  record 
Bear  hateful  memory,  poor  Enobarbus  did 
Before  ,thy  face  repent 


Oh  fovereign  miftrefs  of  true  melancholy, 
The  poifonous  damp  of  night  difpunge  upon  me, 
That  life,  a  very  rebel  to  my  wili> 
May  hang  no  longer  on  me. 

Antony  and  Cleopatra^  ad  4.  fc.  7. 

If 


tg2  Figures.  Ch.  XX: 

If  this  cat!  be  juftified,  it  mufl:  be  upon  the  Heathen 
fyftem  of  theology,  which  converted  into  deities  the 
fun,  moon,  and  ftars. 

Secondly,  After  a  paflionate  perfonification  is 
properly  introduced,  it  ought  to  be  confined  to  its 
proper  province,  that  of  gratifying  the  paffion,  vi^ith- 
out  giving  place  to  any  fentiment  or  action  but  what 
anfwers  that  purpofe  ;  for  perfonification  is  at  any 
rate  a  bold  figure,  and  ought  to  be  employ*d  with 
great  referve.  The  paffion  of  love,  for  example,  in  a 
plaintive  tone,  may  give  a  momentary  life  to  woods 
and  rocks,  in  order  to  make  them  fenfible  of  the  lov- 
er's diflrefs  ;  but  no  pafllon  will  fupport  a  convidion 
fo  far  flretched,  as  that  thefe  woods  and  rocks  fhould 
be  living  witnefles  to  report  the  diflrefs  to  others  : 

Ch'  i'  t'aiii  pill  de  la  mia  vita, 

Se  til  nol  fai,  crudele, 

Chiedilo  a  quelle  felve 

Che  te'l  diranno,  et  te'l  diran  con  efTc 

Le  fere  loro  e  i  duri  fterpi,  e  i  falli 

Di  quefti  alpeftri  monti, 

Ch'  i'  ho  fi  fpeffe  volte 

Intenerili  al  fuon  de'  miei  lamenti, 

Pajior  Fidoy  a£i  1-fc.  3. 

No  lover  who  is  not  crazed  will  utter  fuch  a  fenti- 
ment :  it  is  plainly  the  operation  of  the  writer,  in- 
dulging his  inventive  faculty  without  regard  to  na- 
ture. The  fame  obfervation  is  applicable  to  the  fol- 
lowing paffage  : 

In  winter's  tedious  nights  fit  by  the  fire 
With  good  old  folks  and  let  them  tell  thee  tales 
Of  woful  ages,  long  ago  betid  :  •      «  • 

And  ere  thou  bid  good  night,    to  quit  their  grief. 
Tell  them  the  lamentable  fall  of  me, 
And  fend  the  hearers  weeping  to  their  beds. 

Foj 


S 


Bect.  I,  Figures^  193 

For  why  ;  the  fenfelefs  brands  will  fympathife 
The  heavy  accent  of  thy  moving  tongue, 
And  in  compalTion  weep  the  fire  out. 

Richard  l\.  aSi  ^.  fc.  I. 

One  muA.  read  this  paflage  very  ferioufly  to  avoid 
laughing.  The  following  palTage  is  quite  extrava- 
gant :  t-he  different  parts  of  the  human  body  are  too 
intimately  connected  with  felf,  to  be  perfonified  by 
the  power  of  any  pafTion  ;  and  after  converting  fuch 
a  part  into  a  fenfible  being,  it  is  ftill  worfe  to  make 
it  be  conceived  as  rifmg  in  rebellion  againfl  felf : 

Cleopatra.  Haftej  bare  my  arm,  and  roufe  the  ferpent's 
fury. 

Coward  iielh 

Wouldll  thou  confpire  with  Caefar,  to  betray  me. 
As  thou  wert  none  of  mine  r    Til  force  thee  to't. 

Dryden,  Ail  for  Love,  a£l  5, 

Next  comes  defcriptlve  perfonlfication  ;  upon 
which  I  muft  obferve,  in  general,  that  it  ought  to  be 
cautioufly  ufed.  A  perfonage  in  a  tragedy,  agitated 
by  a  ftrong  paffion,  deals  in  warm  fentiments  ;  and 
the  reader  catching  fire  by  fympathy,  reliflieth  the 
boldeft  perfonifications  :  but  a  writer,  even  in  the 
moih  lively  defcription,  taking  a  lower  flight,  oupht 
to  content  himfelf  with  fuch  eafy  perfonifications  as 
agree  with  the  tone  of  mind  infpired  by  the  defcrip- 
tion. Nor  is  even  fuch  eafy  perfonlfication  always 
admitted  ;  for  in  plain  narrative,  the  mind,  ferious 
and  fedate,  rejeds  perfonificadon  altogether.  Strada, 
in  his  hillory  of  the  Belgic  wars,  l^as  the  following 
paiTage,  which,  by  a  drained  elevation  ^bove  the  tone 
of  the  fubjed,  deviates  into  burlefque. 

Vix  defcenderat  a  praetoria  navl  Ca^far;  cum  focda  illico 
exorta  in  porta  tcmpedas,  clalfem  impetu  disjecit,  prxtori- 

Vol.  II.  N 


1 94  *"■  Figures.  Ch.  'LXj 

am  hauGt  ;  quafi  non  vecluram  ampliiis  Csfarem,  Ca^fa- 
rilqi:e  tortunam. 

Dec.  I.  A  I. 

Neither  do  I  approve,  in  Shakefpear,  the  fpeech  of 
King  John,  gravely  exhorting  the  citizens  of  Angiers 
to  a  furrender  ;  though  a  tragic  writer  has  much 
greater  latitude  than  a  hiilorian.  Take  the  follow- 
ing fpecimen  : 

The  cannons  have  their  bowels  hill  of  wrath  ; 
And  ready  rxionnted  are  they  lo  I'pit  forth 
Their  iron-indignaiion  'gainfl  your  walls. 

A^  l.fc.  3. 

Secondly,  If  extraordinary  marks  of  refped  to  a 
perfon  of  low  rank  be  ridiculous,  no  lefs  fo  is  the 
perfonification  of  a  low  fubje(!R:.  This  rule  chiefly 
regards  defcriptive  perfonification  ;  for  a  fubjecl  can 
hardly  be  low  that  is  the  caufe  of  a  violent  pafTion  j 
in  that  circumflance,  at  leaft,  it  mufl  be  of  import- 
unce*  But  to  afiign  any  rule  other  than  tafte  mere- 
ly, for  avoiding  things  below  even  defcriptive  perfon- 
ificatioil,  will,  I  am  afraid,  be  a  hard  tafk.  A  poet 
of  fuperior  genius,  polTcliing  the  power  of  inflaming 
the  mind,  may  take  hberties  that  would  be  too  bold 
in  others.  Homer  appears  not' extravagant  in  ani- 
mating his  darts  and  arrows  :  nor  Thompfon  in  ani- 
mating the  feafcns,  the  winds,  the  rains,  the  dews  ; 
he  even  ventures  to  animate  the  diamond,  and  doth 
it  Vv'ith  propriety  : 

That  poiiHi'd  bright 


And  all  its  native  luftre  let  abroad, 

D,ares,  as  it  fparkles  on  the  fair-one's  breafty-:. 

With  vain  anibition  emulate  her  eyes. 

But  there  are  things  familiar  and  bafe,  to  which  per- 
fonification cannot  defcend.     In  a  conipofed  flate  of 

mind, 


Sect.  I.  Figures.  ig^ 

mind,  to  animate  a  lump  of  matter  even  in  the  mod 
rapid  flight  of  fancy,  degenerates  into  burlefque  : 

How  now  !  What  noife  !  what  fpirits  poflciTed  with  hafte, 
That  wounds  th'  unrefiftini^  poftern  with  thefe  ftrokes. 
Shake/pear,  Meajure  for  MeaJurCj  a£l  ^.  Jc.  6. 

Or  from  the  fhore 

The  plovers  when  to  fcatter  o'er  the  heath, 
And  ling  their  wild  notes  to  the  lift'ning  wafie, 

Tkompfsn,  Springs  1.  23. 

Speaking  of  a  man's  hand  cut  off  in  battle  : 

Te  declfa  fuum,  Laride,  dextera  qiia-^rit  : 
Semiunimefque  micant  digiti  ;  terrumque  retraclant. 

Mneiil,  \.  395. 

The  perfonlfication  here  of  a  hand  is  infafferable,  ef- 
pecially  in  a  plain  narration  :  not  to  mention  that 
fuch  a  trivial  incident  is  too  minutely  defcribed. 

The  fame  obfervation  is  applicable  to  abdraft 
terms,  which  ought  not  to  be  animated  uniefs  they 
have  fome  natural  dignity.  Thompfon,  in  this  arti- 
cle, is  Hcentious  ;  witnefs  the  following  inftances  out 
of  many  : 

O  vale  of  bllfs  !  O  foftly  fwelling  hills  ! 
On  which  the  power  of  cultivation  lies, 
And  joys  to  fee  the  wonders  of  liis  toil. 

Summer^  L  1435. 

Then  fated  Hunger  bids  his  brother  Ihirji 
Produce  the  mighty  bowl  : 
Nor  wanting  is  the  brown  06lober,  drawn 
Mature  and  perfe6l,  from  his  dark  retreat 
Of  thirty  years  ;  and  now  his  hone ji  front 
Flames  in  the  light  refulgent. 

Autumn y  I,  516. 

N  2  Thirdlvp 


196  Figures,  Ch.  XX« 

Thirdly,  It  is  not  fufficient  to  avoid  improper  fub* 
je£ts :  fome  preparation  is  neceflary,  in  order  to  roufe 
the  mind  ;  for  the  imagination  refufes  its  aid,  till  it 
be  warmed  at  lead,  if  not  inflamed. ,  Yet  Thompfon^ 
•without  the  lead  ceremony  or  preparation,  introduce 
eth  each  feafon  as  a  fenfible  being  : 

From  brightening  fields  of  asther  fair  c'ifclos'd. 

Child  ot  the  fun,  refulgent  Summer  comes, 

In  pride  of  youth,  and  felt  through  Natuie's  depth. 

He  comes  attended  by  the  fiiltiy  hours, 

And  ever  fanning  breezes,  on  his  wny  ; 

While  trom  his  ardent  look,  the  turning  Spring 

Averts  her  blulhfiil  face,  and  earth,  and  Ikies, 

All  fmiling  to  his  hot  dominion  leaves. 

Summery  L  lo 

See  Jointer  comes,  to  rule  the  vary'd  year. 

Sullen  and  fad  vvith  all  his  lifing  train. 

Vapours  and  clouds  znd forms.  Winter,  I.  I. 

This  has  violently  the  air  of  v;rlting  mechanically 
without  tafte.  It  is  not  natural  that  the  imagination 
of  a  writer  fhould  be  fo  much  heated  at  the  very 
commencement  ;  and,  at  any  rate,  he  cannot  expeft 
fuch  dudility  in  his  readers.  But  if  this  pradlice  can 
be  juflified  by  authority,  Thompfon  has  one  of  no 
mean  note  :  Vida  begins  his  firft  eclogue  in  the  fol- 
lowing words  : 

Dicite,  vos  MuHe,  et  juvenum  memorate  querelas  ; 
Dicite  ;  nam  motas  ipfas  ad  carmina  cautes 
Et  reqiiieiTe  fuos  perhibent  vaga  flumina  curfus. 

Even  Shakefpear  is  not  always  careful  to  prepare  the 
mind  for  this  bold  figure.  Take  the  following  in- 
flance. 

Upon  thefe  taxations. 


The  clothiers  all,  not  able  to  maintain 

The 


Sect.  L  Figures.  197 

The  many  to  them  'longing,  have  put  off 
The  fpiiilters,  carders,  iullers,  weavers  ;  who, 
Unfit  tor  other  life,  comprU'd  by  hunger, 
And  lack  of  other  means,  in  defp'rate  manner 
Daring  th'  event  to  th'  teeth,  are  all  in  uproar. 
And  Da}7ger  ferves  among  t-iieni. 

Henry  VIII.  ^^  i.fc,  4. 

Fourthly,  Defcriptive  perfonification,  ftlll  more 
than  what  is  pafiionate,  ought  to  be  kept  within  the 
bounds  of  moderation^  A  reader  warmed  with  a 
beautiful  fubject,  can  imagine,  even  without  paffion, 
the  winds  for  example,  to  be  animated  :  but  Hill  the 
winds  are  the  fubjecl  ;  and  any  adlion  afcribed  to 
them  beyond  or  contrary  to  their  ufual  operation, 
appearing  unnatural,  feldom  fails  to  banifli  the  illu- 
fion  altogether  :  the  reader's  imagination  too  far 
ftrained,  refufes  its  aid  ;  and  tlie  defcription  becomes 
obfcure,  inft ead  of  being  more  lively  and  ftriking. 
In  this  view,  the  following  paflage,  defcribing  Cleo- 
patra on  fhipboard  appears  to  me  exceptionable. 

The  barge  flie  fat  in,  like  a  burnifh'd  throne. 
Burnt  on  the  w^ater  :  the  poop  was  beaten  gold. 
Purple  the  fails,  and  fo  perium'd,  that 
The  winds  were  love-fick  with  'em. 

Antony  and  Cleopatra^  hd  1.  Jc,  3. 

The  winds  in  their  impetuous  courfe  have  fo  much 
the  appearance  of  fury,  that  it  is  eafy  to  figure  them 
wreaking  their  refentment  againll  their  enemies,  by 
deflroying  houfes,  lliips,  Uq.  but  to  figure  them  love- 
lick  has  no  rcfemblance  to  them  in  any  circumftance. 
In  another  palfage,  where  Cleopatra  is  alfo  the  fub- 
jeifl:,  the  perfoniiication  of  the  air  is  carried  beyond 
all  bounds : 


-The  city  cafl 


Its  people  out  upon  her  ;  and  Antony 

N  -?  Inthron'i 


tgt  Figures.  Ch.  XX. 

Inthron'd  1'  th'  market-place  did  fit  slone, 
WhiltUng  to  th'  air,  which  but  tor  vacancy, 
liad  gone  to  gaze  on  Cleopatra  too, 
And  made  a  gap  in  nature. 

Antony  and  Clc.pntra,  aB  2.  fc.  3. 

The  r  ilow'Ing  perfonification  of  the  eaiih  or  foil  is 
not  kfs  wild  : 

She  ihall  be  dip-nifi'd  with  this  high  honour, 
To  bear  my  Lady's  train  ;  left  the  bafe  earth 
Should  from  her  vefturc  chance  to  fleal  a  kifs  i 
And  ot'  fo  great  a  favour  growing  proud, 
Difd^in  to  root  the  fummer-fwelling  flower, 
And  make  rough  winter  everlaltingly. 

Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona^  a£i  1.  Jc.  7. 

Shakefpear,  far  from  approving  fuch  intemperance  of 
imagination,  puts  this  fpeech  in  the  mouth  of  a  rant- 
ing lover.     Neither  can  I  relilh  what  follows. 

Omnia  quje,  Phoebo  quondam  meditante,  beatus 
Audit  Eurotas,  juliitque  cdifccre  lauros, 
Ille  canit. 

Virgil.  Bite.  vi.  82. 

The  chcerfulnefs  fmgly  of  apaftoral  fong,  will  fcarce 
fupport  perfonification  in  the  lowed  degree.  But  admit- 
ting, that  a  river  gently  flowing  may  be  imagined  a  fen- 
fible  being  iiftening  to  a  fftng,  I  cannot  enter  into  the 
conceit  of  the  river's  ordering  his  laurels  to  learn  the 
fong  :  here  all  refemblance  to  any  thing  real  is  quite 
ioft.  This  however  is  copied  Hterally  by  one  of  our 
greateft  poets ;  early  indeed,  before  maturity  of  tafle 
or  judgment  : 

Thames  heard  the  numbers  as  he  fiow'd  along, 
And  b.vJe  his  willows  iearn  the  moving  long. 

Pope' J  pcijlorahj  prjl.  4.  I.  1 3. 

This 


Sect.  I.  ^  Figures.  19^ 

This  author,  In  riper  years  is  guilty  of  a  much  greater 
deviation  from  the  rule.  Dullnefs  may  be  imagined 
a  deity  or  idol,  to  be  worfhipped  by  bad  writers  ; 
but  then  fome  fort  of  difguife  is  requifite,  fome  baf- 
tard  virtue  mufl  be  bellowed,  to  make  fuch  worfliip 
in  fome  degree  excufible.  Yet  in  the  Dunciad, 
Dullnefs  without  the  leaft  difguife,  is  made  the  ob- 
je6l  of  worlhip.  The  mind  rejefts  fuch  a  fitSlion  as 
unnatural  ;  for  dullnefs  is  a  defedl,  of  whicji  even 
the  duileit:  mortal  is  afhamed  : 

Then  he  :  Great  tamer  of  all  human  art  ! 

Fird  in  my  care,  and  ever  at  my  heart  ; 

Dullnefs  !   whufe  good  old  caufe  I  yet  defend. 

With  whom  my  Mufe  began,  with  whom  Ihall  end, 

E'er  fince  Sir  Fopling's  periwig  was  praife. 

To  the  lafl  honours  of  the  Bull  and  Bays  ! 

O  thou  !  of  bus'nefs  the  direfting  foul  ! 

To  this  o'.ir  head,  like  bias  to  the  bowl, 

Which  as  rnore  pond'rous,madc  its  aim  more  true. 

Obliquely  wadling  to  the  mark  in  viev/  : 

O  !  ever  graciovvs  to  perplex'd  mankind. 

Still  fpread  a  healing  mift  before  the  mind  : 

And,  lell  we  err  by  Wit's  wild  dancing  light, 

Secure  us  kindly  in  our  native  night. 

Or,  if  to  wit  a  coxcomb  make  pretence, 

Guard  the  fure  barrier  betv/een  that  and  fenfe  ; 

Or  quite  unravel  all  the  reas'ning  tl-.read, 

And  hang  fome  curious  cobweb  in  its  (lead  ! 

As,  forc'd  from  wiftd-guns,  lead  itfclf  can  fly, 

And  pond'rous  (lugs  cut  fwiitly  through  the  flcy  ; 

As  clogks  to  weight  their  nimble  motion  owe, 

The  wheels  above  urg'd  by  the  load  below  : 

Me  Emptinefs  and  Dullnefs  could  infpire, 

And  were  my  elafticity,  and  lire. 

'      B.  i.  163. 

The  following  inftance  is  ftretched  beyond  all  refem- 
blance  :  it  is  bold  to  take  a  part  or  member  of  a  liv- 
ing creature,  and  to  beflov/  upon  it  hfe,  volition,  and 
N4  adion  : 


^o  Figures*  Ch.  XX^' 

action  :  after  animating  two  fuch  members,  it  is  ftiU 
bolder  to  make  one  envy  the  other  j  for  this  is  wide 
pf  any  refemblance  to  reality  : 

•— De   noftri  baci 


Meritamenti  fia  giudice  quella, 

Che  la  bocca  ha  plu  bclla. 

Tutte  concordemente 

ElelTer  la  beliffima  Amarilli  ; 

Ed'  ella  i  fuoi  begli  occhi 

Dolcemente  chinando, 

Di  modefto  rollbr  tutta  fi  tlnfe, 

E  mbflro  ben,  che  non  men  bella  e  deatra 

Di  quel  che  fia  di  fuori  j 

O  foife,  che'l  hel  volto 

AvciTe  invidia  all'  onorata  bocca, 

E  s'adornaflTe  anch'  egli 

Delia  purpurea  lua  pompofa,  veftaj 

Q^iafi  voleffe  dir,  fon  hello  anch'io. 

Pajior  Fldoy  aB  2.fc.  I. 

Fifthly,  The  enthuliafm  of  pafiion  may  have  the 
efle6l  to  prolong  paflionate  perlbnification  :  but  def» 
criptive  peribnification  camiot  be  difpatched  in  too 
few  words  :  a  circumftamiate  defcription  dilTolves  the 
charm,  and  makes  the  attempt  to  perfonify  appear 
ridiculous.  Homer  fucceeds  in  animating  his  darts; 
and  arrows  :  but  fuch  perfonification  fpun  out  in  ^ 
French  tranllation,  is  mere  burlefque  : 

Et  la  fieche  en  furie,  avide  de  fon  fang, 
Part,  vole  a  lui,  I'atteintj  et  lui  perce  ie  flanc, 

,  Horace  fays  happily. 

Pod  equitem  fedet  atra  Cura. 

Obferve  how  this  thought  degenerates  by  being  di-. 
vided,  like   the  former,  into  a  number  of  minute 

parts : 

'     -  Un 


Sect.  I.  Figures^  '201 

Un  foil  rempli  d'erreurs,  que  le  trouble  accompagnc 
Et  malade  a  la  ville  ainTi  qu'  a  la  carapagne, 
En  vain  monte  a  cheval  pour  troinpcr  fun  ennui, 
Le  Chagrin  monte  en  ei-oupe,  et  galope  avec  lui. 

A  poet,  in  a  fhort  and  lively  expreffion,  may  ani- 
mate his  mufe,  his  "genius,  and  even  his  verfe  :  but 
to  animate  his  verfe,  and  to  addrefs  a  whole  epifLle 
to  it,  as  Boileau  doth,*  is  infuppor table. 

The  following  paflage  is  not  lefs  faulty  : 

Her  fate  is  whifper'd  by  the  gentle  breeze. 

And  told  in  lighs  to  all  the  trembling  trees  ; 

The  trembling  trees,  in  ev'ry  plain  and  wood. 

Her  fate  remurmur  to  the  lilver  flood  j 

The  filver  flood,  fo  lately  cahr.,  appears 

Swelld  with  new  pallion,  and  o'erflows  -yvith  tears; 

1  he  winds,  and  trees,  and  floods,  her  deatli  deplore, 

Paphnc,  our  grief  !  our  glory  !  now  no  more. 

Pope's  FaJloralSf  iv.  6i. 

Let  grief  or  love  have  the  power  to  animate  the 
winds,  the  trees,  the  floods,  provided  the  figure  be 
difpatched  in  a  fmgie  expreffion  :  even  in  that  cafe, 
the  figure  feldom  has  a  good  effect  ;  becaufe  grief" 
or  love  of  the  paftoral  kind,  are  caufes  rather  too 
faint  for  fo  violent  an  effeft  as  imaccining  the  winds, 
trees,  or  floods,  to  be  fenfible  beingis.  But  when 
this  figure  is  deliberately  fpread  out,  with  great  reg- 
ularity and  accuracy,  through  many  lines,  the  read- 
er, initead  of  relifliing  it,  is  (truck  with  its  ridicu- 
lous appearance.. 

SECT, 

^  Epiflle   JOo 


f 


soa  Figures,  Ch.  XX» 

SECT.    II. 


Apojirophe. 


Ti 


HIS  figure  and  the  former  are  derived 
from  the  fame  principle.  If,  to  humour  a  plaintive 
paffion,  we  can  beftow  a  momentary  fenfibihty  upon 
an  inanimate  object,  it  is  not  more  difficult  to  beflow 
a  momentary  prefence  upon  a  fenfible  being  who  is 
abfent  : 

Hinc  Drepani  me  portus  et  illjetabilis  ora 
Accipit.     Hie,  pelagi  tot  tempertatibus  26IUS, 
Heu  !  genitorem,  omnis  curae  cafutque  levamen, 
Amitto  Anchifen  :   hie  me  pater  opt'utte  fejfutn 
Dejeris,  heu  !  tantis  nequicquam  erepte  periclis. 
Nee  vates  Helenus,  cum  miilta  horreada  ir.oneret, 
Hos  mihi  prasciixit  lu6lus  ;  noii  dira  Cel^sno. 

JEneidy  iii.  707. 

Strike  the  harp  In  praife  of  Bragela,  whom  I  left  in 
the  ille  of  mift,  the  {i^oufe  of  my  love.  Dolt  thou  raife 
x\\y  fair  face  from  the  rock  to  iind  the  Auls  of  Cuchullin  r 
I'iie  fca  is  rolling  far  diltant,  and  its  white  foam  flrall  de- 
ceive thee  for  my  fails.  Reiire  for  it  is  night  my  love,  and 
the  dark  winds  ligh  in  thy  hair.  Retire  to  the  hall  of  my 
feafts,  and  think  of  the  times  that  are  pad  ;  for  I  will  not 
return  till  the  ftorm  of  war  is  gone.  O  Connal  fpeak  of 
•wars  and  arms,  and  fend  her  from  my  mind  ;  for  lovely 
with  her  raven-hair  is  tHi  white-bofom'd  daughter  of  Sor- 
glan. 

F'mgalf  h,  I. 

Speaking  of  Fingal  abfent. 

Happy  are  thv  people,  O  Fingal  ;  thine  arm  fliall  figbt 
their  battles.     Thou  art  the  firll  in  their  dangers  ;  the  wif- 
eft  in  the  days  of  their  peace  :  thou  fpeakeft,  and  thy  thou- 
>  fands 


M. 


Sect.il  Figures.  203 

fands  obey  ;  and  armies  tremble  at  the  found  of  thy  fteel. 
Happy  are  thy  people,  O  Fingal. 

This  figure  is  fometimes  joined  with  the  former  : 
things  inanimate,  to  qualify  them  for  hitening  to  a 
paflionate  expoflulation,  are  not  only  perfoniEed,  but 
alfo  conceived  to  be  prelent  : 

Et  fi  fata  Deiim,  fi  mens  non  Ixva  fuilTet, 
Impulerat  ferro  Argoiicas  loedare  laiebras  : 
Trojaque  nunc  Jiures  y  Priainique  arx  alia  manetrf. 

Mneldy  ii.  54. 

Helena- Poor  Lord,  is'"t  I 

Thai  chafe  thee  from  thy  country,  and  expofe 
Tiiofe  tender  limbs  of  thine  to  the  event 
Of  non-fparing  war  ?     And  is  it  I 
That  drive  thee  from  the  fportive  court,  where  thou 
Wafl  Ihot  at  with  tair  eyes,  to  be  the  mark 
Of  Imoky  mufkets  r     0  you  leaden  virjfcngcrs. 
That  ride  upon  the  violent  fpeed  ot  hre, 
Fly  with  falfe  aim  ;  pierce  the  (till  moving  air 
That  fmgs  with  piercing  ;  do  not  touch  my  Lord. 
JlFs  zvell  that  ends  zvell,  ail  t^.Jc.  4. 

And  let  them  lift  ten  thoufand  fvvords,  faid  Nathos  with 
a  fmile  :  the  ions  of  car-borne  Ulhoth  will  never  tremble 
in  danger.  Why  dod  thou  roll  wjth  all  thy  foam,  thou 
roaring  fea  of  Ullin  r  M'hy  df;  ye  ruftle  on  your  dark  wings, 
ye  whitliing  tempehs  of  the  Iky  ?  Do  ye  think,  ye  ftorms, 
that  ye  keep  Nathos  on  the  coaft  r  No  ;  his  foul  detains 
him  ;  children  of  the  night  !  AUhos,  bring  my  fatiier's 
armsj  &c. 

Fingal. 

Whither  hafl  thou  fled,  O  wind,  faid  ihe  King  of  Mor- 
ven  !  Dolt  thou  rulUe  in  the  chaiTd->ers  of  the  fouth,  and 
purfue  the  fhovvcr  in  other  lands  r  Why  conicit  not  thou 
to  my  fails,  to  the  blue  iarc  of  my  fcas  ?  The  toe  is  in  the 
land  of  iVlorven,  and  the  king  is  abftut. 

FingnL 

Haft 


¥©4  Figures,  Gh.  Xr* 

Haft  thou  left  thy  bhie  courfe  in  heaven,  golden-hair'd 
fon  of  the  iky  !  The  weft,  hath  opened  its  gates  ;  the  bed 
of  thy  repofe  is  there.  The  waves  gather  to  behold  thy 
beauty  :  they  lift  their  trembling  heads  ;  they  fee  thee  love- 
'  ly  in  thy  fleep  ;  but  they  fhrink  away  with  fear.  Rell  ir> 
thy  ftiadowy  cave,  O  Sun  ',  and  let  thy  return  be  in  joy. 

fingal. 

Daughter  of  Heaven,  fair  art  thou  !  the  filence  cf  thy 
face  is  pleajfant.  Thou  comeft  forth  in  lovelinefs  :  the 
ilars  attend  thy  blue  (teps  in  the  eaft.  The  clouds  lejoicQ 
in  thy  prefence,  O  Moon  !  and  brighten  their  dark-brown 
fides.  Who  is  like  thee  in  heaven,  daughter  ot  the  night  ? 
The  (tars  are  afhamed  in  t!;y  prefence,  and  turn  afide  their 
fparkling  eyes.  Whither  doll  thou  retire  from  thy  courfe, 
when  tlie  darknefs  of  thy  countenance  grows  ?  Hafl  thou 
thy  hall  like  OfRan  ?  Dwellelt  thou  in  the-ihadovv  of  grief? 
Have  thy  filters  fallen  trom  heaven  ?  and  aie  they  who  re- 
joiced with  thee  at  night  no  more  ? Yes,  they  have  fall- 
en, fair  light  ;  and  often  doft  thou  retire  to  mourn. But 

thou  thyfelf  flialf,  one  night,  fall  ;  and  leave  thy  blue  path 
in  heaven.  The  ihirs  will  then  lift  their  heads  :  they,  who 
in  thy  prefence  were  alhamed,  will  rejoice. 

FingaL 

This  figure,  like  all  others,  requires  an  agitatiom 
of  mind.  In  plain  narrative,  as,  for  example,  in 
giving  the  genealogy  of  a  family,  It  has  no  good  effeft : 

Fauno  Picus  pater  ;  ifque  parentcm 


Te,  Saturne,  refert  ;  tu  fanguinis  uliimus  sudor. 

/Eneii/f  vii.  48. 


SECT.    III. 

Hyperbole, 


I 


.N  this  figure,  by  which  an  objecl  is  magni- 
fied or  diniiniilied  beyond  truth,  ive  have  another 
eiFed  of  the  foregoing  principle.     An  object  of  an 


uncommon 


Sect.  IIL  figures*  205 

uncommon  fize,  either  very  great  of  its  kind  or  very 
little,  flrikes  us  with  furprife  ;  and  this  emotion  pro- 
duces a  momentary  convidion  that  the  objeft  is 
greater  or  lefs  than  it  is  in  reality  :*  the  fame  effefl, 
precifely,  attends  figurative  grandeur  or  Httlenefs  : 
and  hence  the  hyperbole,  which  expreflfes  "that  mo- 
mentary convidion.  A  v/riter,  taking  advantage  of 
this  natural  delufion,  warms  his  defcription  greatly 
by  the  hyperbole  :  and  the  reader,  even  in  his  cool- 
eft  moments,  relifhes  the  figure^  being  fenfible  that  it 
is  the  operation  of  nature  upon  a  glowing  fancy. 

It  cannot  have  efcaped  obfervation,  that  a  writer 
iS  commonly  more  fucccfsful  in  magnifying  by  a  hy- 
perbole than  in  diminifliing.  The  reafon  is,  that  a 
minute  objedl  contrails  the  mind,  and  fetters  its  pow- 
er of  imagination  ;  but  that  the  mind,  dilated  and 
inflamed  with  a^grand  objeft,  moulds  cbjeds  for  its 
^^ratification  with  great  facility.  Longinus,  with  re- 
ipeft  to  a  diminifliing  hyperbole,  quotes  the  following 
ludicrous  thought  from  a  comic  poet  :  "  He  was 
owner  of  a  bit  of  ground  no  larger  than  a  Lacede- 
monian letter."!  But,  for  the  reafon  now  given,  the 
hyperbole  has  by  far  the  greater  force  in  magnifying 
objefts  5  of  which  take  the  following  examples  : 

For  all  the  land  Vvhich  hou  feefl,  to  tl  e^  will  I  give  it,  and 
to  th  y  feed  for  ever.  A;ul  I  will  make  thy  feed  as  the  duft 
of  the  earth  ;  fothat  if  a  man  can  number  the  duft  of  the 
earth,  then  fliall  thy  feed  alfo  be  numbered. 

Gencjis  xiii.  i^.  i6. 

Ilia  vel  inta^lse  fegC^s  per  fiimma  volaret 
Gramina  :  nee  teneras  curfu  IsefiSret  ariCias. 

Myie'id,  vii,  808. 

Atqup 

*  See  Chap.  8. 

t  Chap.  31.  of  his  Trcsrifc  on  the  Sublime, 


2o6  Figures,  Ch.  XX. 

Atque  imo  barathri  ter  gurgite  vaftos 


Sorbet  in  abiuptum  llu6tus,  rurfufqiie  fub  auras 
Eiiijit  altcjiios,  ex  fidera  verberat  unda. 

jEneid,  iii.  421. 

Horificis  jiixta  tonat  j^tna  ruinis, 


Jntcrdumque  atram  proruinpit  ad  a:thera  nubem. 
Turbine  fumantem  piceo  et  candente  faviila  : 
Atiollitque  globos  flammaruir.,  et  iidera  lambit. 

Mneuly  iii.  571, 
Speaking-  of  Polyphemus  : 

Ipfe  arduus,  au?.que  piilfat 

Mneidy  iii.  619. 

When  he  fpeaks, 


Sidcra. 


The  air,  a  charter'd  libeitine,  is  ftiil. 

HenrfW,  a£i  l.fc.  i. 

Now  fbield  with  flileld,  with  behnet  helmet  clos'd, 
To  arniour  armour,  lance  to  lance  oppos'd. 
Hoft  againft  hoft  with  ihadovvy  fquadzon?  drew, 
The  founding  darts  in  iron  tempells  flew, 
Vidlors  and  vanquidvd  join  promifcuous  cries. 
And  Ihrilling  fhouts  and  dyin^groans  arife  ; 
With  dreaming  blood  the  ilipp'ry  fields  are  dy'd,^ 
And  Uaughter'd  heroes  fwell  the  dreadful  tide. 

Iliad  IV.  508- 

The  following  may  alfo  pafs,   though  far  flretched. 

E  conjungendo  a  temerario  ardire 
,   Eftrema  forza,  e  intaticabi^  lena 
Vien  che  fi'impetuofo  il  ferro  gire, 
Che  ne  trema'la  terra,  el  ciel  balena. 

Gierujahm,  cant.  6.  ft.  46. 

Quintilian  *  Is  fenfible  that  this  figure  is  natural  : 
«  For,"  fays  he,   "  not  contented  with  truth,  we  are 

naturally 

*  L.  B.  cap,  6,  in  fin. 


Sect.  III.  Figures.      '  £07 

naturally  inclined  to  augment  or  diminifli  beyond  it ; 
and  for  that  reafon  the  hyperbole  is  familiar  even 
among  the  vulgar  and  illiterate  :"  and  he  adds,  very 
juflly,  "  That  the  hyperbole  is  thtin  proper,  when 
the  fubjeft  of  itfelf  exceeds  the  common  meafure.'* 
From  thefe  premifes,  one  «vould  not  expeft  the  fol- 
lowing inference,  the  only  reafon  he  can  find  for 
juftifying  this  figure  of  fpeech,  "  Ccnceditur  enim 
amplius  dicere,  quia  dici  quantum  ell,  non  potefl  : 
meliufque  ultra  quam  citra  flat  oratio."  (We  are 
indulged  to  fay  more  than  enough,  becaufe  we  can- 
not fay  enough  ;  and  it  is  better  to  be  above  than 
under.)  In  the  name  of  wonder,  why  this  childifh 
reafoning,  afier  obferving  that  the  hyperbole  is  found- 
ed on  human  nature  ?  I  could  not  refill  this  perfonal 
(Iroke  of  criticifm  ;  intended  not  againfl  our  author, 
for  no  human  creature  is  exempt  from  error,  but 
againll  the  blind  veneration  that  is  paid  to  the  an- 
cient claflic  writers,  without  dillinguilhing  their 
blemiQies  from  their  beauties. 

Having  examined  the  nature  of  this  figure,  and 
the  principle  on  which  it  is  erefted,  I  proceed,  as  in 
the  firfl  fedion,  to  the  rules  by  which  it  ought  to  be 
governed.  And,  in  the  firfl  place,  it  is  a  capital  fault, 
to  introduce  an  hyperbole  in  the  defcription  of  any 
thing  ordinary  or  familiar  ;  for  in  fuch  a  cafe,  it  is 
altogether  unnatural,  being  defiitute  of  furpriiie,  its 
only  foundation.  Take  the  following  inflance, 
where  the  fubjed:.  is  extremely  familiar,  viz.  fwirn- 
ming  to  gain  the  fhore  after  a  fliipwreck. 

I  fuw  him  beat  the  furies  under  him, 

And  ride  upon  their  backs  ;  he  trode  tlie  water  ; 

Whofe    enmity  he  flung  afidc,  and  breafted 

The  furge  molt  fwoln  that  met  him  :  his  bokf  head 

'Bove  the  contentious  waves  he  kept,  and  oar'j] 

Himfelf  with  his  good  arms,  in  kilty  ftrokes 

To 


':o^  Figures,  .    Ch.  XS4 

To  tW  fiore,  that  o'er  his  wave-borne  bafis  bow'd. 
As  {looping  to  relieve  him. 

Te?npe/i,  ad  l.Jc.  i. 

In  tile  next  p^ace,  It  may  be  gathered  from  what 
is  faid,  that  an  hyperbole  can  never  fuit  the  tone  of 
any  difpiriting  palTion  :  forrow  in  particular  will 
Jiever  prompt  fuch  a  figure  ;  for  which  reafon  the 
following  hyperboles  muft  be  condemned  as  un- 
natural : 

K.    Rich.  Aumerle,  thou  weep'ft   my  tender-hearted 
coufin  ! 
We'll  make  ioul  weather  with  defpifed  tears  : 
Dur  fighs,  and  they,  lliall  lodge  the  lummer-corn. 
And  make  a  dearth  in  this  revolting  land. 

RicJmrdll.  aa  l.Jc.  6. 

Draw  them  to  Tyber's  bank,  and  weep  your  tears 
Into  the  channel,  till  the  kiweit  itream 
Do  kifs  the  nioft  exalted  fhores  of  all. 

Julius  Cicfar,  aSi  i .  _/?.  i . 

Thirdly,  A  writer,  if  he  widi  to  fucceed,  ought 
always  to  have  the  reader  In  his  eye  :  he  ought  in 
particular  never  to  venture  a  bold  thought  or  ex- 
prefTion,  till  the  reader  be  warmed  and  prepared. 
For  that  reafon,  an  hyperbole  in  the  beginning  of  a 
%vork  can  never  be  in  its  place.     Example  : 

Jam  pauca  aratro  jugere  regia; 
Moles  rclinquent. 

Horat.  Ccinn.  I.  I.  ode  15. 

The  nicefl  point  of  all,  is  to  afcertain  the  natural 
Umits  of  an  hyperbole,  beyond  which  being  over- 
fLrained  it  hath  a  bad  cilea;. .  Longinus,  in  the  above- 
cited  chapter,  with  great  propriety  of  thought,  en- 
ters a  caveat  againft  an  hyperbole  of  this  kind  :  he 
compares  it  to  a  bow-ftring,  which  relaxes  by  ovcr- 

Uraining, 


Sect.  III.  Figures.  sog 

flraining,  and  produceth  an  effect  diredly  oppofite 
to  what  is  intended.  To  afcertain  any  precife  bound- 
ary, would  be  difficult,  if  not  impracticable.  Mine 
fhall  be  an  humbler  talk,  which  is,  to  give  a  fpeci- 
men  of  what  I  reckon  overflrained  hyperbole  ;  and  I 
fhall  be  brief  upon  them,  becaufe  examples  are  to  be 
found  every  where  :  no  fault  is  more  common  among 
writers  of  inferior  rank  ;  and  inftances  are  found 
even  among  claffical  writers  ;  witnefs  the  following 
hyperbole,  too  bold  even  for  an  Hotfpur. 

Hotfpur  talking  of  Mortimer  : 

In  fingle  oppofitlon  hand  to  hand, 

He  did  confound  the  belt  part  of  an  hour 

In  changing  hardiment  with  great  Glendowcr. 

Three   times   they  brcath'd,   and   three  times  d<Id  they 

drink, 
Upon  agreement,  of  fwift  Severn's  flo6d  ; 
Who  then  affrighted  with  their  bloody  looks. 
Ran  fearfully  among  the  trembling  reeds, 
And  hid  his  crifp'd  head  in  the  hollow  bank, 
Blood-ftained  with  thefe  valiant  combatants. 

Firjl party  Henry  W .  acl  \.  Jc  4. 

Speaking  of  Henry  V. 

England  ne'er  had  a  king  until  his  time  : 
Virtue  he  had,  deferving  to  command  : 
His  brandifh'd  fword  did  blind  men  with  its  beams  : 
His  arms  fpread  wider  than  a  dragon's  wings  : 
His  fparkling  eyes,  replete  with  awful  fire. 
More  dazzled,  and  drove  back  his  enemies, 
Than  mid-day  fun  fierce  bent  againfl:  their  faces. 
What  fhould  I  fay  ?  hisdeeils  exceed  all  fpeech  : 
He  never  lifted  up  his  hand,  but  conquer'd. 

Firjl party  Henry  Wl.  aft  i.fc.  i. 

So 

Vol.  II.  O 


51  o  Tigurej*  Ch,  XS(. 

Se  tutti  gli  alberi  del  mondo  foffero  penne, 
II  cielo  folTe  carta,  il  mare  inchoflro, 
Non  bafteriano  a  deicrivere  la  minima 
Parte  delle  voftre  pertettioni. 

Se  tante  lingtie  haveffi,  e  tante  voci, 
Qt^iant'  occhi  il  cielo,  e  quante  arene  il  mare, 
Perderian  tutto  il  fiiono,  e  la  lavella 
Nel  dire  a  pieno  le  voftri  lodi  immenfi. 

Guarini. 

It  is  obfervable,  that  a  hyperbole,  even  the  mofl 
extravagant,  commonly  produces  fome  emotion  :  the 
prefent  hyperbole  is  an  exception  ;  and  the  reafon 
is,  that  numbers,  in  which  the  extravagance  entirely 
confifls,  make  no  imprefiion  upon  the  imagination 
when  they  exceed  what  can  eafily  be  conceived. 

Laftly,  an  hyperbole,  after  it  is  introduced  with  all 
advantages,  ought  to  be  comprehended  within  the 
few  ell  words  poiTible  :  as  it  cannot  be  reliflied  but  in.' 
the  hurrv  and  fwelling  of  the  mind,  a  leifurely  view 
difiblves  the  charm,  and  difcovers  the  defcription  ta 
be  extravagant  at  ieaft,  and  perhaps  alfo  ridiculous. 
This  fault  is  palpable  in  a  formet  which  paffeth  for 
one  of  the  mod  complete  in  the  French  languagCr 
Pkillis,  in  a  long  and  florid  defcripticn,  is  made  as 
far  to  outfliine  the  fun  as  he  outlliines  the  flars, 

Le  filence  regnoit  fur  la  tcrre  et  fur  I'onde, 
L'air  devenoit  ferain  et  lOlimpe  vermeij, 
Kt  ramoureux  Zephir  affranchi  du  fommeil, 
Reflufcitoit  les  fieurs  d'une  haleine  leconde. 

L'Aurore  deployoit  Tor  de  fa  trefTe  blonde, 
Et  (enioit  dc  rubis  Ic  chemin  du  folcii  ; 
Enfin  ce  Dieu  venoit  au  plus  <;rand  apparcil 
Q^i'il  foit  jamais  \^a\y  pour  eclairer  le  munde. 

Qiiand 


Sect.  IV.  Figures*  2U 

Quand  la  jeune  Phillis  au  vifage  riant, 
Sortant  de  fon  palais  plus  clair  que  I'orlent, 
Fit  voir  une  lumiere  et  plus  vive  et  plus  belle. 
Sacre  flambeau  du  jour,  n'en  foyez  point  jaloux. 
Vous  parutes  alors  auffi  peu  devant  elle, 
Que  ies  feux  de  la  nuit  avoient  fait  devant  vous. 

MsUeville. 

There  is  in  Chaucer  a  thought  exprelTed  in  a  fmgle 
line,  which  gives  more  luftre  to  a  young  beauty,  than 
the  whole  of  this  much-laboured  poem  : 

Up  rofe  the  fun,  and  up  rofe  Emelie, 


SECT.     IV. 

The  Means  or  Injiriiment  conceived  to  be  the  AgenU 


W. 


HEN  we  furvey  a  number  of  conneded 
objects,  that  which  makes  the  greateft  figure  employs 
chiefly  our  attention  ;  and  the  emotion  it  raifes,  if 
lively,  prompts  us  even  to  exceed  nature  in  the  con- 
ception we  form  of  it.  Take  the  following  exam* 
pies. 

For  Neleus'  fon  Alcides'  rage  had  flain. 

4 

A  broken  rock  \}i\z  force  of  Pirus  threv/. 

In  thefe  inftances,  the  rage  of  Hercules  and  the  force 
of  Pirus,  being  the  capital  circumftances,  are  fo  far 
exalted  as  to  be  conceived  the  agents  that  produce 
the  effeds. 

In 

O    2 


In  the  following  Inftances,  hunger  being  the  chief 
circumibmce  in  the  defcrfptiofi.  Is  itfelf  imagined  to 
be  the  patient. 

Whofe  hunger  has  not  laded  fcod  thefe  three  days. 

yane  Shore. 

As  when  \.\\e  force 

Oi  fubterraneaa  wind  tranfports  a  hill. 

Paradijc  Loft. 

As  when  th.?  potent  rod 


Of  Amram's  fon,  in  Egypt's  evil  day 

Wav'd  round  the  coaft,  upcall'd  a  pitchy  cloud 

Of  locufis. 

Paradife  Loji. 


SEC    T.    V. 

A  Figure,  which,  anio7ig  related  Obje&s,  extends  the 
Properties  of  one  to  another. 


HIS  figure  Is  not  dignified  -with  a  proper 
name,  becaufe  it  has  been  overlooked  by  writers. 
It  merits,  however,  a  place  in  this  work  ;  and  muft 
be  diflinguifhed  from  thofe  formerly  handled,  as  de- 
pending on  a  different  principle.  Giddy  brink,  jovial 
ivlne,  daring  wound,  are  examples  ot  this  figure. 
Here  are  adjedives  that  cannot  be  made  to  fignify 
any  quality  of  the  fubftantives  to  which  they  are 
joined  :  a  brink,  for  example,  cannot  be  termed  gid- 
dy  in  a  fenfe,  either  proper  or  figurative,  that  can  fig- 
nify any  of  its  qualities  or  attributes.  When  we  ex- 
amine attentively  the  expreffion,  we  difcover  that  a 
brink  Is  termed  giddy  from  producing  that  effeft  in 
thofe  who  fland  on  it.     In  the  fame  manner  a  wound 

is 


Sect.  V.  Figures^  213 

|s  faid  to  be  daring,  not  with  refpe<5l  to  Itfelf,  but 
•svith  refped  to  the  boldnefs  of  the  perfon  who  in- 
fli£ls  it  :  and  wine  i$  faid  to  hejo-via/,  as  infpiring 
mirth  and  jollity.  Thus  the  attributes  of  one  fubje^ 
are  extended  to  another  with  which  it  is  counefted  ; 
and  the  exprelTion  of  fuch  a  thought  muft  be  confid- 
ered  as  a  figure,  becaufe  the  attribute  is  not  applica- 
ble to  the  fubjed  in  any  proper  fenfe. 

How  are  we  to  account  for  this  figure,  v.'hlch  we 
fee  lies  in  the  thought,  and  to  what  principle  Ihail  we 
refer  it  ?  Have  poets  a  privilege  to  alter  the  nature 
<?f  things,  and  at  pleafure  to  beftow  attributes  upon 
a  fubjecl  to  which  they  do  not  belong  ?  We  have 
had  often  occafion  to  inculcate,  that  the  mind  paffeth 
eafily  and  fweetly  along  a  train  of  connected  objefts  ; 
and,  where  the  objects  are  intimately  connected,  that 
it  is  difpofed  to  carry  along  the  good  or  bad  proper- 
ties of  one  to  another  ;  efpecially  when  it  is  in 
any  degree  inflamed  with  thefe  propertres.*  From 
this  principle  is  derived  the  figure  under  confidera- 
tion.  Language,  invented  for  the  communication  of 
thought,  would  be  imperfect,  if  it  were  not  expref- 
five  (iven  of  the  fughter  propenfities  and  more  deli- 
cate feehngs  ;  but  language  cannot  remain  fo  imper- 
fe6t  arnong  a  people  who  have  received  any  polifli  5 
becaufe  language  is  regulated  by  internal  feeling,  and 
Is  gradually  improved  to  exprefs  whatever  paifes  in 
the  mind.  Thus,  for  example,  when  a  fword  in  the 
hand  of  a  coward,  is  termed  a  cozvard  fivord^  the 
expreflion  is  fignificative  of  an  internal  operation  ; 
for  the  mind,  in  palTmg  from  the  agent  to  its  inftru- 
ment,  is  difpofed  to  extend  to  the  latter  the  proper- 
ties of  the  former.  Governed  by  the  lame  piinciple, 
\ve  fay  lijlening  fear,  by  extending  the  attribute  liften^ 

mg 

*  See  chap.  2.  part  l.  fc£l.  5. 


214  Figures*  Ch.  XX. 

ing  of  the  man  v^ho  liflens,  to  the  pafllon  with  which, 
he  is  moved.  In  the  expreffion  bold  deed,  or  audai9 
f acinus,  we  extend  to  the  efFefl;  what  properly  belongs 
to  the  caufe.  But  not  to  wafle  time  by  making  ^ 
com-mentary  upon  every  expreffion  of  this  kind,  thg 
beft  way  to  give  a  complete  view  of  the  fubjed,  is  ta 
exhibit  a  table  of  the  different  relations  that  may 
give  occafion  to  this  figure.  And  in  viewing  the  ta- 
ble, it  will  be  obferved,  that  the  figure  can  never 
have  any  grace  but  where  the  relations  are  of  th© 
moft  intimate  kind. 

I . .  An  attribute  of  the  caufe  expreffed  as  an  at^ 
tribute  of  the  effed. 

Audax  facinus. 

Of  yonder  fleet  a  /^o/^  difcovery  make. 
An  impious  mortal  gave  the  daring  wounds 
To  my  advcnt'rous  fong. 


That  widi  no  middle  flight  intends  to  foar. 

Paradije  Lojl. 

1.  An  attribute  of  the  effect  expreffed  as  an  attri- 
bute of  the  caufe. 

Qvios  pcriiffe  ambos  m'ljcra  cenfebam  in  mari. 

Plautus. 

No  wonder,  fallen  fuch  a  pernicious  height. 

Paradije  LoJ}. 

3.  An  effed  expreffed  as  an  attribute  of  the  caufe. 

Jovial  wine,    Giddy  brink,  Drowfy  night,  Mnfing  mid- 
lu^ht,  Fanting  height,  Aitoniih'd  thought,  Muurntul  gloom.. 

Calling 


Sect,  V,  Figures,  215 

Calling  a  dim  religious  li^ht. 


And  the  merry  bells  ring  round, 
And  the  jocund  rebecks  found. 


MiUotif  Comus, 


MiltoHj  Allegro. 


4.  An  attribute  of  a  fubjed  bellowed  upon  one  of 
its  parts  or  members. 

Longing  arms. 

It  was  the  nightingale  and  not  the  lark, 

That  pierc'd  \\\e  fearful  hollow  of  thine  ear. 

Roir.eoand  "Juliet-,  ail  '}^'  ff'  7' 

Oh,  lay  by 


Thofe  moft  ungentle  looks  and  angry  weapons  ; 
Unlefs  you  mean  my  grieis  and  killing  fears 
Should  ftretch  nae  out  at  your  reknilejs  feet. 

Fair  Penitent,  ail  3, 

And  ready  now 


To  itoop  wiih  wearied  wing  and  willing  feet 
On  the  bare  outfide  of  this  world. 

Paradife  Lojij  b.  3. 

5.  A  quality  of  the  agent  given  to  the  inflrument 
lyith  which  it  operates. 

Why  peep  your  coward  fwords  half  out  their  Ihells  ! 

6.  An   attribute  of  the  agent  given  to  the  fubjed 
upon  which  ic  operates. 

High-climbing  hill. 

Milton. 

7.  A  quality  of  one  fubject  given  to  another. 

Icci,  beatis  nunc  Arabum  invides 
Gazii. 

Horai,  Carm,  I.  1 .  ode  7,9. 
O4  When  • 


^i^  Figures.  Ch.  XZ. 

When  faplefs  age,  and  weak  unable  limbs, 
Should  bring  thy  tather  to  his  drooping  chair. 

Skakejpear. 

By  art,  the  pilot  through  the  boiling  deep 
And  howling  tempelt,  iieers  xYicfearleJs  Ihip. 

Iliad  xxiii.  385. 

Then,  nothing  loath,  th'  enamour'd  fair  he  led. 
And  funk  tranfported  on  the  conjcioui  bed. 

Odyjfey  viii.  337. 

A yiupid  moment  motionlefs  (he  flood. 

Sunwiery  I.  1336. 

8.  A  circumftance  conneded  with  a  fubjeft,  ex- 
preifsd  as  a  quality  of  the  fubjeft. 

Breezy  fummit. 

'Tis  ours  the  chance  oi Jightlng  fields  to  try. 

Iliad  I.  301. 

Oh  !  had  I  dy'd  before  that  w^ll-f ought  wall. 

Od)fey  V.  395. 

From  this  table  it  appears^  that  the  adorning  a 
caufe  with  an  attribute  of  the  <efFe61;,  is  not  fo  agree- 
able as  the  oppofite  exprefhon.  The  progrefs  from 
caufe  to  efi'eft  is  natural  and  eafy  :  the  oppofite  prog- 
refs refembles  retrograde  motion  ;*  and  therefore 
panting  height,  ajlonijh'd  thought^  are  flrained  and  un- 
couth expreflions,  which  a  writer  of  tafle  will  avoid. 

It  is  not  lefs  flrained,  to  apply  to  a  fubjecl  in  its 
prefent  flate,  an  epithet  that  may  belong  to  it  in  fome 
future  Hate  : 

Submerfafque  obrue  puppcs.  Jineidj  i.  73. 

And 

*Sec  chap.  1, 


Sect.  VI.  Figures.  217 

And  mighty  ruins  fall. 

liiaJ  V.  411. 

Impious  fons  their  mangled  fathers  wound. 

Another  rule  regards  this  figure.  That  the  proper- 
ty of  one  fubjed;  ought  not  to  be  bellowed  upon  an- 
other with  which  that  property  is  incongruous : 

King  Rich. How  dare  thv  joints  forget 

To  pay  their  auful  duly  to  our  preience  r 

Richard  W.  aa  '•^,fc.  6. 

The  connexion  between  an  awful  fuperior  and  his 
fubmiiTive  dependent  is  fo  intimate,  that  an  attribute 
may  readily  be  transferred  from  the  .one  to  the  other  : 
but  awfulnefs  .cannot  be  fo  transferred,  becaufe  it  is 
inconfiilent  with  fubmifTion. 


A 


SECT.      VI. 

Metaphor  and  Allegory, 


Metaphor  diiFers  from  a  fmiile,  iu 
form  only,  not  in  fubftance  :  in  a  fimile,  the  two 
fubjecls  are  kept  dilHnft  in  the  expreffion,  as  well  ;ij 
ia  the  thought ;  in  a  metaphor,  the  two  fubjeds  arc 
kept  diftind  in  the  thought  only,  not  in  the  expref- 
fion. A  hero  refembles  a  lion,  and,  upon  that  re- 
femblance  many  fimiles  have  been  raifcd  by  Homer 
and  other  poets.  But  inftead  of  refembling  a  iicn, 
let  us  take  the  aid  of  the  imagination,  and  feign  or 
figure  the  hero  to  be  a  lion  :  by  that  variation  trie 
fimile  is  converted  into  a  metaphor  ;  which  is  carri- 
ed on  by  defcribing  all  the  equalities  of  a  lion  that  re- 
femble  thofe  of  the  hero.  The  fundamental  }>leafure 
here,  that  of  refemblance,  belongs  to  the  thought. 

An 


^  1 3  Figures,  Ch.  XX, 


An  additional  pleafure  arifes  from  the  exprefTion  : 
the  poet,  by  figuring  his  hero  to  be  a  Hon,  goes  on 
to  de:cribe  the  Hon  in  appearance,  but  in  reaHty  the 
hero  :  and  his  defcription  is  pecuHarly  beautiful,  by 
exprelTmg  the  virtues  and  quaHties  of  the  hero  in  new 
terms,  which,  properly  fpeaking,  belong  not  to  him, 
but  to  the  Hon.  This  will  better  be  underllood  by 
examples.  A  family  conne6ted  with  a  common  pa- 
rent, refembles  a  tree,  the  trunk  and  branches  of 
which  are  connedted  with  a  common  root  :  but  let 
us  fuppofe,  that  a  family  is  figured,  not  barely  to 
be  like  a  tree,  but  to  be  a  tree  ;  and  th*=n  the  fimile 
will  be  converted  into  a  metaphor,  in  the  following 
manner  : 

Edward's  fevV.  fons,  whereof  thyfelf  art  one, 

Were  fev'n  tair  branches  fpringing  from  one  root  : 

SoiTiC  of  thefe  branches  by  the  deft'nies  cut  : 

But  Thoaias,  my  dear  lord,  my  life,  my  Glo'fler, 

One  flouiilhing  branch  of  his  nno't  royal  root, 

Is  hack'd  down,   and  his  fummer-leaves  all  faded. 

By  Envy's  hand  and  Murder's  bloody  axe. 

Richard  11.  a£i  l.fc.  3. 

Figuring  human  Hfe  to  be  a  voyage  at  fea  : 

There  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men, 

Which,  taken  at  the  tiood,  leads  on  to  fortune  ; 

Omitted,  all  the  voyage  of  their  life 

Is  bound  in  lliallows  and  in  miferies. 

On  fiich  a  full  fea  are  we  now  afloat, 

And  we  mull  take  the  current  while  it  ferves. 

Or  lofe  our  ventures. 

yuUus  defur,  aui  A.fc.  5. 

Figuring  glory  and  honour  to  be  a  garland  of  flowers, 

liotjpur. Wou'd  to  heav'n, 

Thy  name  in  arms  were  now  as  great  as  mi'^e  ! 

Fr.  Henry. 


Sect.  VI.  Figiirgjs,  219 

Pr.  Henry.  I'll  make  it  greater,  ere  I  part  from  thee. 
And  all  the  budding  honours  on  thy  creil 
I'll  crop  to  make  a  garland  tor  my  head. 

Firji  party  Henry  IV.  a^  S'f'-'  9* 

Figuring  a  man  who  hath  acquired  great  reputation 
and  honour  to  be  a  tree  full  ot  fruit ; 

■> — Oh,  boys,  this  (lory 

The  world  may  read  in  me  :  my  body's  mark'd 

With  Roman  Ivvords  \  and  my  report  was  once 

Firfl  with  the  bed  of  note.     Cymbeline  lov'd  me  j 

And  when  a  foldier  was  the  theme,  my  name 

Was  not  far  off  :  then  was  I  as  a  tree, 

Whofe  boughs  did  bend  with  fruit.     But  in  one  night, 

A  ftorm  or  robbery  call  it  what  you  will, 

Shook  down  my  mellow  hangings,  nay  my  leaves  ; 

And  left  m?  bare  to  weather. 

Cymbeline,  aB  'l-fc.  3. 

Bled  be  thy  foul,  thou  king  of  Ihells,  faid  Swaran  of  the 
dark-brown  llhield.  In  peace  thou  art  the  gale  of  fpring  ; 
in  war,  the  mountain-florm.  Take  now  my  hand  in  friend- 
ihip,  thou  noble  king  of  Morven. 

Fitigal. 

Thou  dwelled  in  the  foul  of  Malvina,  fon  of  mighty 
Oflian.  My  fighs  aiife  with  the  beam  of  the  cad  :  iriy 
tears  dcfcend  with  the  drops  of  night.  I  was  a  lovely  tree 
in  thy  prefence,  Ofcar,  with  all  my  branches  round  me  : 
but  thy  death  came  like  a  blalt  from  the  defart,  and  laid  my 
green  head  low  ;  the  fpring  returned  with  its  iliowers,  but, 
no  leaf  of  mine  arofe. 

»  Fingal. 

I  am  aware  that  the  term  -metaphor  has  he^in  ufed  in 
a  more  extenfive  fenfe  than  I  give  it  ;  but  I  thought 
it  of  confequeuce,  in  a  difquifition  of  fome  intricacy, 
to  confine  the  term  to  its  proper  ienfe,  and  to  fepa- 
rate  from  it  things  |hat  are  diilinguiihed  by  different 
names.     An  allegory  differs  from  a  metaphor  ;  and 

vvhat 


320  Figures,  Ch.  XX, 

what  I  would  choofe  to  call  a  figure  offpeech,  differs 
from  both.  1  proceed  to  explain  thefe  difterences. 
A  metaphor  is  defined  above  to  be  an  a6t  of  the 
imagination,  figuring  one  thing  to  be  another-  An 
allegory  requires  no  fuch  operation,  nor  is  one  thing 
figured  to  be  another :  it  confifts  in  choofmg  a  fub- 
jecl  having  properties  or  circumftances  refembling 
thofe  of  the  principal  fubjed  ;  and  the  former  is  de- 
cribed  in  fuch  a  manner  as  to  reprefent  the  latter  j 
the  fubjed  thus  reprefented  is  kept  out  of  view  :  we 
are  left  to  difcover  it  by  reflection ;  and  we  are  pleafed 
with  the  difcovery,  becaufe  it  is  our  own  work.  Quin- 
tiliaii*  gives  the  following  inftance  of  an  Allegory, 

O  navis,  referent  in  mare  te  novl 

Fludlus.     O  (juid  agis  ?  fortiter  occupa  portura. 

Ho  rat.  lib.  i.  ode  14. 

and  explains  it  elegantly  in  the  following  words  : 
"  Totufque  ille  Horatii  locus,  quo  navim  pro  re-i 
publica,  rluctuum  tempeftates  pro  bellis  civilibus, 
portum  pro  pace  atque  concordia,  dicit." 

A  finer  or  more  correQ:  allegory  is  not  to  be  found 
than  the  following,  in  which  a  vineyard  is  made  to 
reprefent  God's  own  people  the  Jews. 

Thou  haft  brought  a  vine  out  of  Egypt  :  thou  haft  caft 
out  the  Heathen,  and  planted  it.  Thou  didft  caufe  it  to 
take  deep  root,  and  it  filled  the  land.  The  hills  were  cov- 
ered v/ith  its  Ihadovv,  and  the  boughs  thereof  were  like  the 
goodly  cedars.  Why  haft  thou  theo  broken  down  her  hedges, 
fo  that  all  which  pafs  do  pluck  her  ?  The  boar  out  ot  the 
wood  doth  wafte  it,  and  the  wild  beaft  doth  devour  it.  Re- 
turn, we  befeech  thee,  O  Gxi  of  holls  :  look  down  from 
heaven,  and  behold,  and  vifit  this  vine,  and  the  vineyard 
thy  right  hand  hath  planted,  and  the  branch  thou  madcft 
ilrong  for  thyrL;If. 

.^  PJahn  80. 

*  \l\ 

*  L.  8.  cap.  6.  fea.  s. 


Sect.  VI,  Fmires^  sii 


"6 


In  a  word,  an  allegory  is  in  every  refpeft  fimilar 
to  an  hieroglyphical  painting,  excepting  only  that 
words  are  ufed  inftead  of  colours.  Their  efFeds  are 
precifely  the  fame  :  a  hieroglyphic  raifes  two  images  in 
the  mind  ;  one  feen,  which  reprefents  one  not  Teen : 
an  allegory  does  the  fame  ;  the  reprefentative  fub- 
j eft  is  defer ibed  ;  and  rcfemblance  leads  us  to  apply 
the  defcription  to  the  fubjed  reprefented.  In  a  fig- 
ure of  fpeech,  there  is  no  fidlion  of  the  imagination 
employed,  as  in  a  metaphor,  nor  a  reprefentative 
fubjed  introduced,  as  in  an  allegory.  This  figure, 
as  its  name  implies,  regards  the  exprelllon  only,  not 
the  thought  ;  and  it  may  be  defined,  the  ufing  a 
word  in  a  fenfe  different  from  what  is  proper  to  it. 
Thus  youth,  or  the  beginning  of  life,  is  expreffed 
figuratively  by  mor?img  of  life  :  morning  is  the  be- 
ginning of  the  day  ;  and  in  that  view  it  is  employed  to 
fignify  the  beginning  of  any  other  feries,  life  efpecial- 
ly,  the  progrefs  of  which  is  reckoned  by  days. 

Figures  of  fpeech  are  referved  for  a  feparate  fec- 
tion  ;  but  metaphor  and  allegory  are  fo  much  con- 
neded,  that  they  muft  be  handled  together :  the  rules 
particularly  for  diftinguifhing  the  good  from  the  bad, 
are  common  to  both.  We  fhall  therefore  proceed  to 
thefe  rules,  after  adding  fome  examples  to  illuflrate 
the  nature  of  an  allegory.  Horace,  fpeaking  of  his 
love  to  Pyrrha,  which  was  now  extinguiflied,  exprefT- 
eth  himfelf  thus  : 

—•' — Me  tabula  facer 


Votivu  paries  indicat  uvida 
Sufpendiire  potenti 
Vcftirnenta  maris  Deo. 

Carm.  J.  i.  ode  5. 

Again  ; 


22 1  figures.  Ch.  XX* 

Again  s 

Phoebus  volentem  praelia  me  loqui, 
Victas  et  urbes,  increpuit  lyra  : 
Ne  parva  Tyrrhenum  per  aquor 
Vela  dare. 

Carm.  /.  5.  ode  15. 

^ueen.  Great  Lords,  wife  men  ne'er  fit  and  wail  their 
lofs. 
But  cheerly  fcek  how  to  redrefs  their  harms, 
What  though  the  maft  be  now  thrown  overboard. 
The  cable  broke,  the  holding  anchor  loft. 
And  half  our  failors  fwallow'd  in  the  flood  ; 
Yet  lives  our  pilot  flill.     Is't  meet,  that  he 
Should  leave  the  helm,  and,  like  a  fearful  lad. 
With  tearful  eyes,  add  water  to  the  fea, 
And  give  more  ftrength  to  that  which  hath  too  much  ; 
While  in  his  moan  <he  fliip  fplits  on  the  rock. 
Which  induftry  and  courage  might  have  fav'd  ? 
Ah,  what  a  fliame  !  ah,  what  a  fault  were  this! 

Third  Party  Henry  VI.  a^  c^.fc.  5. 

Oroonclo.  Ha  !  thou  haft  rous'd 
The  lion  in  his  den  :  he  (talks  abroad, 
And  the  wide  foreft  trembles  at  his  roar. 
I  find  the  danger  now, 

Oroonokoy  aSi  3.  fc.  2. 

My  wcll-beloved  hath  a  vineyard  in  a  very  fruitful  hill. 
He  fenced  it,  gatheied  out  the  ftones  thereof,  planted  it 
with  the  choiceft  vine,  built  a  tower  in  the  midft  of  it,  and 
alfo  made  a  wine-prefs  therein  :  he  looked  that  it  Ihould 
bring  forth  grapes,  and  it  brought  forth  wild  grapes.  And 
now,  O  inhabitants  of  Jerufalem,  and  men  of  jndah,  judge, 
I  pray  you,  betwixt  me  and  my  vineyard.  What  could 
have  been  done  more  to  my  vineyard,  that  I  have  not  done  ? 
W^herefore,  when  I  looked  that  it  fhould  bring  forth  grapes, 
brought  it  forth  wild  grapes  ?  And  now  go  to  ;  I  will  tell 
y'ou  what  I  will  do  to  my  vineyard  :  I  will  take  away  the 
liedge  thereof,  and  it  fhall  be  eaten  up  ;  and  break  down 
the  wall  thereof,  and  it  lliall  be  trodden  down.  .  And  I  will 

lay 


Sect.  VI.  Figures,  cii^ 

lay  it  wade  :  it  ihall  not  be  pruned,  nor  digged,  but  there 
Ihall  come  up  briers  and  thorns  :  I  will  alfo  command  the 
clouds  that  they  rain  no  rain  upon  it.  For  the  vineyard  of 
the  Lord  of  holts  is  the  houfe  ct  Ifrael,  and  the  men  of 
Juduh  his  pleafant  plant.  Ifaiah,  v.  i. 

The  rules  that  govern  metaphors,  and  allegories, 
are  of  two  kinds  :  the  condrudion  of  thefe  figures 
comes  under  the  fir  ft  kind  ;  the  propriety  or  im- 
propriety of  intrcdudlion  comes  under  the  other.  I 
begin  with  rules  of  the  firft  kind  ;  fome  of  which 
coincide  with  thofe  ah-eady  given  for  fimiles  ;  fome 
are  peculiar  to  metaphors  and  allegories. 

And  in  the  firft  place,  it  has  been  obferved,  that  a 
fimile  cannot  be  agreeable  where  the  refemblancc 
is  either  too  ftrong  or  too  faint.  This  holds  equal- 
ly in  metaphor  and  allegory  ;  and  the  reafon  is  the 
fame  in  all.  In  the  following  inftances,  the  refem- 
blance  is  too  faint  to  be  agreeable. 

Malcch?!. But  there's  no  bottom,  none, 

In  my    vcIi'ptuounK'fs  :  your  wives,  your  daugir.tr?. 
Your  matrons,  and  your  maids,  could  not  fill  up 
The  ciftern  oi  my  iuit. 

Macbeth  J  a£i  j^.fc.  4, 

The  befl:  ^vay  to  judge  of  this  metaphor,  is  to  con-. 
vert  it  into  a  fimiie  ;  which  would  be  bad,  becaufe 
there  is  fcarce  any  refemblance  between  luft  and  :i 
ciftern,  or  betwixt  enormous  hift  and  a  large  ciftern. 

Again  : 

He  cannot  buckle  hi.sdiftemper'u  caufe 
Within  \.\\^  belt  of  rule. 

Macbeth,  aSl  ^.fc.  2. 

There  is  no  refemblance  between  a  diftempered  caufs 
and  any  body  that  can  be  confined  within  a  belt. 


224  Figure s»  Ch.  XX. 

Again  : 

Steep  me  in  poverty  ^  the  very  lips. 

Of  hello,  aSl  J^.  fc.  9. 

Poverty  here  miifl;  be  conceived  a  fluid,  which  it  re- 
iembles  not  in  any  manner. 

Speaking  to  Bolingbroke  banifhed  for  fix  years : 

The  fullen  pafTage  of  thy  weary  fleps 
Erteem  a  foil,  wherein  thou  art  to  fet 
The  precious  jewel  of  thy  hom'^-return. 

Richard  W.  aSl  l.Jc.  6. 

Again  : 

Plere  Js  a  letter,  lady, 

And  every  word  in  it  a  gaping  wound 

lifuing  lite-blood. 

Merchant  of  Venice,  aSi  'T^-fc.  3. 

Tant3E  moVii  erat  Romanam  condere  gentcm. 

Mneid,  i.  37. 

The  following  metaphor  is  flrained  beyond  all 
endurance  :  Timur-bec,  known  to  us  by  the  name 
of  Tamerlane  the  Great,  writes  to  Bajazet  Emperor 
of  the  Ottomans  in  the  following  terms  : 

Where  is  the:  monarch  who  dares  refift  us  ?  where  is  the 
potentate  who  doth  not  glory  in  being  numbered  among  our 
attendants  ?  As  for  thee,  defcended  from  a  Turcoman  fail- 
or,  fmce  the  veffel  of  thy  unbounded  ambition  hath  been 
wreck'd  in  the  gulf  of  thy  felf-love,  it  would  be  proper, 
that  thou  ihouldll  take  in  the  fails  of  thy  temerity,  and  cafl 
the  anchor  of  repentance  in  the  port  of  fincerity  and  juflice, 
which  is  the  port  of  fafcty  ;  left  the  temped  of  our  ven- 
geance make  thee  p«rilh  in  the  fea  of  the  puniflmicnt  thou 
deferveft. 

Suxb 


SfeCT.  Vi.  Figures.  22^ 

Such  ftrained  figures,  as  obferved  above,*  are  not 
Unfrequent  in  the  firft  dawn  of  refinement  :  the 
mind  in  a  new  enjoyment  knows  no  bounds,  and  is 
generally  carried  to  excefs,  till  tafle  and  experience 
difcover  the  proper  limits. 

Secondly,  Whatever  refemblance  iubjeds  may 
have,  it  is  wrong  to  put  one  for  another,  where  they 
bear  no  mutual  proportion  :  upon  comparing  a  very 
high  to  a  very  low  fubjecl,  the  fimile  takes  on  an 
air  of  burlefque  j  and  the  fame  will  be  the  effect, 
"where  the  one  is  imagined  to  be  the  other,  as  in  a 
metaphor  ;  or  made  to  reprefent  the  other,  as  in  an 
allegory. 

Thirdly,  Thefe  figures,  a  metaphor  efpeclally, 
ought  not  to  be  crowded  with  many  minute  circum- 
ftances  ;  for  in  that  cafe  it  is  fcarcely  poffible  to  avoid 
obfcurity.  .A  metaphor  above  all  ought  to  be  fliort : 
it  is  difficult,  for  any  time,  to  fupport  a  lively  image 
of  a  thing  being  what  we  know  it  is  not ;  and  for 
that  reafon,  a  metaphor  drawn  out  to  any  length,  in- 
ftead  of  iiluftrating  or  enlivening  the  principal  fub- 
je£l;,  becomes  difagreeable  by  overftraining  the  mind. 
Here  Cowley  is  extremely  licentious  :  take  the  fol- 
lowing inftance. 

Great  and  wife  conqu'ror,  who  where-e'er 
Thou  com'ft,  doth  toriify,  and  fettle  there  ! 
Who  canlt  defend  as  v^ell  as  get, 
And  never  hadft  one  quarter  beat  up  yet  ; 
Now  thou  art  in,  thou  ne'er  wilt  part 
With  one  inch  of  my  vanquifh'd  heart  ; 
For  fince  tlxoii  took'il  it  by  alVault  from  me, 
'Tis  garrifon'd  fo  llrong  with  thoughts  of  thee, 
It  ftars  no  beauteous  enemy. 


} 


For 


*  Chap.  i^.  Companfons, 

Vol.  II.  P 


iiS  Figures,  Ch.  J^¥ 

For  the  fame  reafon,  however  agreeable  long  allego- 
ries may  at  fir  ft  be  by  their  novelty,  they  never  afford 
any  lading  pleafure  :  witnefs  the  Fairy-^ieen^  which; 
with  great  power  of  expreflion,  variety  of  images^ 
and  melody  of  verification,  is  fcarce  ever  read  a  fcc- 
ond  time. 

In  the  fourth  place,  the  comparifon  carried  on  in 
a  fimile,  being  in  a  metaphor  funk  by  imagining  the 
principal  fubjeO:  to  be  that  very  thing  which  it  only 
refembles  ;  an  opportunity  is  furnifhed  to  defcribe  it 
in  terms  taken  ftriftly  or  literally  with  refpeft  to  it& 
imagined  nature.  This  fuggefts  another  rule.  That 
in  conflruQiIng  a  metaphor,  the  writer  ought  to  make 
ufe  of  fuch  words  only  as  are  applicable  literally  to 
the  imagined  nature  of  his  fubjeOi  :  figurative  words 
ought  carefully  to  be  avoided  ;  for  fuch  complicated 
figures,  inllead  of  fetting  the  principal  fubjed  in  a 
flrong  light,  involve  it  in  a  cloud  j  and  it  is  well  li 
the  reader,  without  rejedling  by  the  lump,  endeavour 
patiently  to  gather  the  plain  meaning  regardlefs  of 
the  figures  : 

A  (tubborn  and  unconquerable  flame 

Creeps  in  his  veins,  and  drinks  the  llreams  of  life. 

Lady  'Jane  Gray,  act  i,fc.  I. 

Copied  from  Ovid, 

Sorbent  avidas  pratcordia  flamma;. 

Metamorph.  lib.  ix.  172. 

Let  us  an;ilyfe  this  expreffion.  Thar  a  fever  may  be 
imagined  a  flame,  1  admit  ;  though  more  than  one 
flep  is  neceffary  to  come  at  the  refemblanc^  :  a  fever, 
by  heating  the  body,  refembles  fire  ;  and  it  is  no 
flretch  to  imagine  a  fever  to  be  a  fire  :  Again,  by  a 
figure  of  fpeech,  flame  may  be  put  for  fire,  becaufe 
they  are  commonly  conjoined  j  and  therefore  a  fever 

may 


J5ect.  VI.  Bguresl  227 

# 

may  be  termed  a  flame.  But  now  admitting  a  fever 
to  be  a  flame,  its  effeds  ought  to  be  explained  in 
words  that  agree  literally  to  a  flame.  This  rule  is 
not  obferved  here ;  for  a  flame  drinks  figuratively 
only,  not,  properly. 

King  Henry  to  his  fon  Prince  Henry  : 

Thou  hid'ft  a  thoufand  daggers  in  thy  thoughts. 
Which  thou  hafl  whetted  on  thy  ftony  heart 
To  (tab  at  half  an  hour  of  my  frail  life. 

Second  Party  Henry  IV.  acf  ^.  fc.  1 1, 

Such  faulty  metaphors  are  pleafantly  ridiculed  in  the 

Rehearfal  : 

Phyftdany  Sir,  to  conclude,  the  place  you  fill,  has  more 
than  amply  exacted  the  talents  of  a  wary  pilot  ^  and  all 
thefe  threatening  itorms,  which,  like  impregnate  clouds, 
hover  o'er  our  heads,  will,  when  they  once  are  grafp'd  but 
by  the  eye  of  renfon,  melt  into  fruitful  ihowers  of  blcilings 
on  the  people. 

Bayesu  Pray  mark  that  allegory.     Is  not  that  good  ? 

J^hnfon.  Yes,  that  grafping  of  a  ftorm  with  the  eye  is 
admirable. 

Aa  i.fc.  r. 

Fithly,  The  jumbling  different  metaphojs  in  the 
fame  fentence,  beginning  with  one  metaphor  and  end- 
ing with  another,  commonly  called  a  mixt  metaphor, 
ought  never  to  be  indulged.  Quimilian  bears  tefti- 
mony  againfl:  it  in  the  bittereft  terms  ;  "  Nam  id 
quoque  in  primis  eft  cuftodiendum,  iit  quo  ex  genere 
coeperis  tranflationis,  hoc  defmas.  Multi  enim,  cum 
initium  a  tempeftate  fumpferunt,  incendio  aut  ruina 
finiunt  :  quai  eft  inconfequentia  rerum  foediffima." 
Z..  8,  cap.  6.  §  2. 

P  2  K,  Henry, 


223  Pigtim,  Ch.  XX, 

K.  Henry.  - ■■ Will  yon  again  unknit 

This  ehurliih  knot  of  all-abhorrecl  war, 
And  move  in  that  obedient  orb  again, 
Wnere  you  did  give  a  fair  and  natural  light  ? 

Firji party  Henry  W,  a£l  %>  Jc.  I* 

"Whether  'tis  nobler  in  the  mind,  to  fufFer 
The  I'tings  and  arrov7s  of  ontrag'ous  fortune  ; 
Or  to  take  arms  ag.iiijlt  a  fea  of  troubles. 
And  by  oppofing  end  them. 

Hamlet,  oM  1-fc.  2. 

In  the  fixth  place.  It  Is  unpleafant  to  join  differ- 
ent metaphors  in  the  fame  period,  even  where  they 
are  prefer ved  diftind:  :  for  when  the  fubjeft  is  iniag- 
med  to  be  firfl  one  thing  and  then  another  in  the 
fame  period  without  interval,  the  mind  is  dillrafted 
by  the  rapid  tranfition  ;  and  when  the  imagination 
is  put  on  fuch  hard  duty,  its  images  are  too  faint  to 
produce  any  good  effeO. : 

At  regina  gravi  jamdudum  faucia  cura, 
Vulnus  alit  venis,  et  case©  carpitur  igni. 

Mneidf  iv.   i. 

Eft  mollis  flamma  medullas 

Interea,  et  taciturn  vivit  fub  peclore  vulnus. 

/Eneid,  iv.  66. 

Motum  ex-  Metello  confule  civicum, 
Bellique  caufas,  et  vitia,  et  modos, 
Lndtimque  fortu-ia:  gravefque 
Principum  amicitias,  et  arma 
Nondum  expiatis  iincla  cruoribus, 
Periculofa;  plenum  opus  alea;, 
Tra£tas,  et  incedis  per  igncs 
Subpofitos  cineri  dolofo. 

Horat.  Carm.  I.  2.  ode  r. 

In  the  lafl  place,  It  is  ftill  worfe  to  jumble  to- 
gether metaphorical  and  natural  expreflion,  fo  as  that 

the 


^Segt.  VI.  Figures'.  42a 

the  period  mufl  be  underftood  in  part  metaphorical- 
ly, in  part  literally ;  for  the  imagination  cannot  fol- 
low with  fufficient  eafe,  changes  fo  fudden  and  unpre- 
pared :  a  metaphor  begun  and  not  carried  on,  hath 
no  beauty ;  and  inftead  of  light  there  is  nothing  but 
obfcurity  and  confufion.  Inflances  of  fuch  incor- 
re£t  compofition  are  without  number.  I  ihall,  for 
a  fpecimen,  feleft  a  few  from  different  authors. 

Speaking  of  Britain, 

This  precious  flone  fet  in  the  fea, 
Which  ferves  it  in  the  office  of  a  wall, 
Or  as  a  moat  defenfive  to  a  houfe 
Againft  the  envy  of  lefs  happier  lands. 

Richard  II.  aSi  1.  fc  I. 

In  the  firfl  line  Britain  is  figured  to  be  a  precious 
flone  :  in  the  following  lines,  Britain,  diverted  of  her 
metaphorical  drefs,  is  prefented  to  the  reader  in  her 
natural  appearance. 

Thefe  growing  feathers  pluck'd  from  Casfar's  wing, 
Will  make  hiin  fly  an  ordinary  pitch, 
Who  elfc  would  foar  above  the  view  of  men, 
And  keep  us  all  in  fervile  iearfiilntfs. 

Julius  Cctfarj  a6l  l.fc.  i. 

Rebus  anguRis  animofus  atque 
Fortls  adpare  :  fapienter  idem 
Contrahes  vento  nimium  fecundq 

Turgida  vela.  Hor. 

The  following  is  a  miferable  jumble  of  expreffions, 
arifmg  from  an  unlleady  view  of  the  fubjeft,  between 
its  figura.tive  and  natural  appearance  : 

But  now  from  gath'ring  clouds  deftrudion  pours, 
Whioh  ruins  with  mad  rage  our  halcyon  hours  : 

Mifls 

P3 


t3«  Ft^um.  €h.X2;^ 

Mifts  from  black  jealoufies  the  tempeft  form, 
Whilfl  late  divifions  reinforce  the  florm. 

,    Dijpenjary^j  canto  3. 

To  thee,  the  world  its  prefent  homage  pays, 
The  harvell  early,  but  mature  the  praife. 

Pope's  Imltaticn  of  Horace ^  h.  %»     \ 

Oui,  fa  pudeur  n'efl:  que  franche  grimace, 
Qu'une  ombre  de  venue  qui  garde  mal  la  place, 
tt  qui  s'eyanouit,  comme  Ton  peut  favoir, 
Aux  rayons  du  foleil  qu'une  bourfe  fair  voir. 

M-olier CyV Etourdi^  a£l  '^' fc  2. 

Et  fon  feu,  depourvu  dc  fenfe  et  de  le6lure, 
S'eteient  a  chaque  pas,  faute  de  nourriture. 

BoikaUy  rArt  poeiique,  chant,  3.  /.  319. 

Dryden,  in  his  dedication  pf  the  tranflatipn  of  Ju.^ 
venal^  fays. 

When  thus,  as  I  may  fay,  before  the  ufe  of  the  load-flone^, 
or  knowledge  of  the  compafs,  I  was  failing  in  a  vaft  ocean, 
without  other  help  than  the  pole-flar  of  the  ancients,  and 
the  rules  of  the  French  ftage  among  the  moderns,  Sec. 

There  is  a  time  when  fa6lions,  by  the  vehemence  of  their 
own  fermentation,  flun  and  oiiable  one  another. 

Bol'mghrole. 

This  fault  of  jumbling  the  figure  and  plain  expref- 
fion  into  one  confufed  mafs,  is  not  lefs  common  in 
allegory  than  in  metaphor.  Take  the  rollovving  ex-* 
5imples. 

Hen  !  quoties  fidem, 

Mutatofque  Deos  ficbit,  el  afpera 
Nigris  asquora  ventis 
Emirabitur  infolens, 
Qui  nunc  te  fruit ur  creduhis  aurea  : 
Qui  femper  vaciiam,  femper  amabilem 
Sperat,  nefcius  aura3 

Fallacts.  HoraU  Cmm.  1.  i.  ode  5. 

Pour 


Sect.  VL  Figures.  f  3f 

Pour  moi  fur  cette  tner,  qu'ici  bas  roiis  courons, 
,  Je  fonge  a  ine  pourvoir  d  cfquif  et  d'avirons, 
A  regier  mes  defirs,  a  prevcnir  I'orage, 
Et  fauver,  s'il  fe  peut,  ma  Raifon  du  naufrage. 

Boileau,  ep'ttre  5. 

Lord  Halifax  fpeaking  of  the  ancient  fabulifts : 
"They  (fays  he)  wrote  in  figns  and  fpoke  in  parables  : 
all  their  fables  carry  a  double  meaning  ;  the  flory  is 
one  and  entire ;  the  charaders  the  fame  throughout ; 
not  broken  or  changed,  and  always  conformable  to 
the  nature,  of  the  creature  they  introduce.  They 
never  tell  you,  that  the  dog  which  fnapp'd  at  a  fhad- 
ow,  loft  his  troop  of  horfe ;  that  would  be  unintelligi- 
ble. This  is  his  (Dryden's)  new  way  of  telling  a 
ftory,  and  confounding  the  moral  and  the  fable  to- 
gether." After  inftancing  from  the  hind  and  pan- 
ther, he  goes  on  thus :  "  What  relation  has  the  hind 
to  our  Saviour ;  or  what  notion  have  we  of  a  pan- 
ther's Bible  ?  if  you  fay  he  means  the  church,  how 
does  the  church  feed  on  lawns,  or  range  in  the  for- 
^fl  ?  Let  it  be  always  a  church  or  always  a  cloven- 
footed  beail,  for  we  cannot  bear  his  Shifting  the 
fcene  every  line." 

A  few  words  more  upon  allegory.  Nothing  gives 
greater  pleafure  than  this  figure,  when  the  reprefent- 
ative  fubjed  bears  a  ftrong  analogy,  in  all  its  circum- 
ftances,  to  that  which  is  reprefented :  but  the  choice 
is  feldom  fo  lucky ;  the  analogy,  being  generally  io 
faint  and  obfcure,  as  to  puz^^le  ?.nd  not  pleafi?.  Kn 
allegory  is  ftill  more  difficult  in  painting  than  in  po- 
etry :  the  former  can  (liov.^  no  rcfemblance  but  what 
appears  to  the  eye ;  the  latter  hath  many  other  re- 
fources  for  (bowing  the  refemblance.  And  therefore, 
•^\\h  refped  to  what  the  Abbe  du  Bos*  •  erms  mixt 

allegorical 

*  Refleflions  fur  la  Pocfic,  vol.   i.  feft.  24. 
P4 


43 «  Figures^  Ch.  XX. 

allegorical  compofitions,,  thefe  may  do  in  poetry  ;  be- 
caule  in  writing,  the  allegory  can  eafily  be  diftinguifh- 
ed  from  the  hiftorical  part :  no  perfon,  for  example, 
mlftakes  Virgil's  Fame  for  a  real  being.  But  fuch  a 
mixture  in  picture  is  intolerable ;  becaufe  in  a  pic- 
ture the  obje6ls  mud  appear  all  of  the  fame  kind, 
wholly  real  or  wholly  emblematical.  For  this  reafon, 
the  hiftory  of  Mary  de  Medicis,  in  the  palace  of  Luxr 
enbourg,  painted  by  Rubens,  is  unpleafant  by  a  per^ 
petual  jumble  of  real  and  allegorical  perfonages, 
which  produce  a  difcordance  of  parts,  and  an  obicu-. 
tity  upon  the  whole  ;  witnefs  in  particular,  the  tabla-. 
ture  repr'efenting  the  arrival  of  Mary  de  Medicis  at 
Marfeilles ;  where,  together  with  the  real  perfonages, 
the  Nereids  and  Tritons  appear  founding  their  fhells : 
fuch  a  mixture  of  fidlon  and  reality  in  the  fame 
group,  is  ftrangely  abfurd,  Th^  pifture  of  Alexan- 
der and  Roxana,  defcribed  by  Lucian,  is  gay  and 
fanciful ;  but  it  fufFers  by  the  allegorical  figures.  It 
is  not  in  the  wit  of  man  to  invent  an  allegorical  rep- 
refentation  deviating  farther  from  any  fhadow  of  re- 
femblance,  than  one  exhibited  by  Lewis  XIV.  anno 
1664  ;  in  which  an  enormous  chariot,  intended  to 
reprefent  that  of  the  fun,  is  diagg'd  along,  furround- 
cd  with  men  and  women,  reprefenting  the  four  ages 
of  the  world,  the  celeftial  figns,  the  feafons,  the 
hours,  &c.  a  monftrous  compofition,  fuggefted  prob- 
abV  by  Guido's  tablature  of  Aurora^  and  Hill  more 
aboard. 

in  an  allegory  as  well  as  in  a  metaphor,  terms 
ouc^ht  to  be  chofen  that  properly  and  literally  are 
applicable  to  the  reprefcntative  fubjefl:  :  nor  ought 
an/  circumftance  to  be  added  that  is  not  proper  to 
the  reprefcntative  fubje<Si:,  however  juflly  it  may  be 
applicable  properly  or  figiiratively  to  the  principal. 
The  following  allegory  is  therefore  faulty  ; 

Ferus 


Sect.  VI.  Fiiureu  S33 

Ferus  et  Cupido^ 
Semper  ardentes  acuens  faglttas 
Cote  cruentd. 

Horat.  I  1.  ode  8. 

Ji'or  though  blood  may  fuggeft  the  cruelty  of  love,  i^ 
Ss  an  improper  or  immiiterial  circuailtance  in  the  rcp- 
refentative  fubjed  :  water,  not  bloodj  is  proper  iox 
a  vvhetflone. 

We  proceed  to  the  next  head,  which  is,  to  exam-r 
ine  in  what  circumftance  thefe  figures  are  proper,  in 
what  improper.  This  inquiry  is  not  alrogetJier  fu- 
perfeded  by  what  is  faid  upon  the  fame  fubjec:!:  in  tha 
chapter  of  Comparifons  ;  becaufe  upon  trial  it  will 
be  found,  that  a  fliort  metaphor  or  allegory  may  be 
proper,  where  a  fmiile,  drawn  out  to  a  greater  length, 
and  in  its  nature  more  folemn,  would'fcarce  be  rel- 
iJdied. 

And,  firft,  a  metaphor,  like  a  fimile,  ir.  excluded 
from  common  converfation,  and  from  the  defcrip- 
tion  of  ordinary  incidents. 

Second,  in  exprefiing  any  fevere  paflion  that  whol- 
ly occupies  the  mJnd,  metaphor  is  improper.  For 
which  reafon,  the  following  fpeech  of  Macbeth  is 
faulty. 

Metho'.iglit  I  heard  a  voice  cry  Heep  no  more  ! 
l\lacbeth  doth  murder  fleep  :,  the  innocent  lleep  ; 
Sleep  that  knits  up  the  ravell'd  IKeve  of  Care, 
The  birth  of  each  day's  life,  fore  Lahour'i;  bath. 
Balm  of  hurt  minds,  great  Nature's  fccond  courfc-j, 
Chief  nouriilier  in  Life's  feall. 

Aa  i.Jc.  3. 

The  following  ezample  of  deep  defpair,  befide  the 
highly  figurative  ftyle,  hath  more  the  air  of  raving 

^han  of  i<?nie  ; 

Calijla, 


;* 


«34  Figures*  Ch,  XX„ 

CaVJia.     Is  it  the  voice  of  thunder,  or  my  father  ? 
Madnefs  1  Confufion  !  let  the  dorm  come  on, 
JyCt  the  tumultuous  roar  drive  all  upon  me, 
Dalh  my  devoted  bark  ;  ye  furges,  break  it  j 
*Tis  for  my  ruin  that  the  tempeit  rifes, 
When  I  am  loft,  furrk  to  the  bottom  low, 
peace  Ihall  return,  and  all  be  calm  again. 

Fair  Penifent,  aSl  4, 

The  metaphor  I  next  introduce,  is  fweet  and  live- 
ly, but  it  fuits  not  a  fiery  temper  inflamed  with  paf- 
fion :  parables  are  not  the  language  of  wrath  vent* 
ing  itfelf  without  reftraint ; 

Chamont.     You  took  her  up  a  little  tender  flower, 
Juft  fprouted  on  a  bank,  which  the  next  froft 
Had  nip'd  ;  and  with  a  careful  loving  hand, 
Tranfplanted  her  into  your  own  fair  garden. 
Where  the  fun  always  Ihines  :  there  long  fhe  flourifh'd, 
Grew  fweet  to  fenfe  and  lovely  to  the  eye. 
Till  at  the  laft  a  cruel  fpoiler  came, 
Cropt  this  fair  rofe,  and  rifled  all  its  fweetnefs, 
Then  calt  it  like  a  loathfome  weed  away. 

Orphariy  a5l  4. 

The  following  fpeech,  full  of  imagery,  b  not  natuN 
fil  in  grief  and  dejedion  of  mind  : 

Gonfalez.     O  my  fon  !  from  the  blind  dotage- 
Of  a  father's  fondnefs  thefe  ills  arofe. 
For  thee  I've  been  ambitious,  bafe  and  bloody  : 
For  thee  I've  plung'd  into  this  fea  of  fin  ; 
Stemming  the  tide  with  only  one  weak  hand, 
While  t'other  bore  the  crown  (to  wreathe  thy  brow,) 
Whofe  weight  has  funk  me  ere  I  reach 'd  the  (hore. 

Mourning  Bride,  a6i  $-Jc.  6. 

There  is  an  enchanting  pi£lure  of  deep  diftrefs  in 
Macbeth,*  where  Macdulf  is  reprefented  lamenting 

his 

*  Aa  4.  fc.  6. 


gECT»VI,  Bgiires»  1235 

his  wife  and  children,  inhumanly  murdeted  by  the 
tyrant.  Stung  to  the  heart  with  the  news,  he  queft- 
ions  the  meflenger  over  and  over  :  not  that  he  doubt- 
ed the  fad,  but  that  his  heart  revolted  againjfl  fo  cru- 
el a  misfortune.  After  ftrugghng  fometime  with  his 
grief,  he  tuvns  from  his  wife  and  children  to  their 
favage  butcher  ;  and  then  gives  vent  to  his  refent- 
pent,  but  flill  with  maniinefs  and  dignity  : 

O,  I  could  play  the  woman  with  mine  eyes. 
And  braggart  with  ray  tongue.  But,  gentle  Heav'r  \ 
Cut  fliort  all  intermifiion  ;  front  to  tront 
Bring  thou  this  fiend  of  Scotland  and  myfelf  ; 
Within  my  fword's  length  fet  him. — If  he  'fcape, 
Then  Heav'n  forgive  him  too. 

The  whole  fcene  is  a  delicious  pifture  of  human  na- 
ture. One  expreffion  only  feems  doubtful  :  in  ex- 
amining the  meflenger,  Macdulf  *expreflcs  himfelf 
thus  ; 

He  hath  no  children — all  my  pretty  ones  ! 
Did  you  fay,  all  r   what,  all  ?   Oh,  hell-kite  !  all  ? 
What  !  all  my  pretty  little  chickens  and  their  dam. 
At  one  fell  fwoop  1 

Metaphorical  expreflion,  I  am  fenfible,  may  fome- 
times  be  ufed  with  grace,  where  a  regular  fnnile 
would  be  intolerable  :  but  there  are  fituations  fo  fe- 
vere  and  difpiriting,  as  not  to  admit  even  the  fiightefl 
metaphor.  It  requires  great  delicacy  of  talle  to  de- 
termine with  firmnefs,  whether  the  prefent  cafe  be  of 
that  Idnd  :  I  inchne  to  think  it  is  ;  and  yet  I  would 
not  willingly  alter  a  fmgie  word  of  this  admirable 
fcene. 

But  metaphorical  language  is  proper  when  a  man 
ilruggles  to  bear  with  dignity  or  decency  a  misfor« 

tune 


n^  Figures.   ,  Ch.  XX, 

tune  however  great :  the  ftruggle  agitates  and  ani* 
mates  the  mind : 

,     JVolJey.  Farewell,  a  long  farewell,  tq  all  my  greatnefs  ; 
This  is  the  ftare  of  man  j  to-day  he  puis  forth 
The  tender  leaves  of  hope  ;  to-morrow  bloifoms. 
And  bears  his  bluihing  honours  thick  upof^  him  ; 
The  third  day  comes  a  froll,  a  killing  frott, 
And  when  he  thinks,  good  eafy  man,  full  furely 
His  greatnefs  is  a  ripening,  nips  his  root, 
And  then  he  f^lls  as  I  do. 

lienr^  VIII.  a6i  'i^,Jc.  6, 


SECT.      VII, 

figure  of  Speech. 

.N  the  fe£lion  immediately  foregoing,  a  fig* 
ure  of  fpeech  is  defined,  "  The  ufing  a  word  in  a 
itniQ  different  from  what  is  proper  to  it  j"  and  the 
new  or  uncommon  fenfe  of  the  word  is  termed  the 
fpiratlwfenfe.  The  figurative  fenfe  muft  have  a  re^ 
lation  to  that  which  is  proper  ;  and  the  more  inti^ 
mate  the  relation  is,  the  figure  is  the  more  happy. 
How  ornamental  this  figure  is  to  language,  will  not 
be  readily  imagined  by  any  one  who  hath  not  given 
peculiar  attention  ;  and  therefore  I  fhall  endeavour 
to  unfold  its  capital  beauties  and  advantages.  In  the 
firfl  place,  a  word  ufed  figuratively  or  in  a  new  fenfe, 
fuggefts  at  the  fame  time  the  fenfe  it  commonly 
bears  :  and  thus  it  has  the  effeft  to  prefent  two  ob- 
jeds  ;  one  fignified  by  the  figurative  fenfe,  which 
may  be  termed  the  principal  object ;  and  one  fignified 
by  the  proper  fenfe,  which  may  be  termed  acccjjbry  :■ 
the  principal  makes  a  part  of  the  thought  ;  the  ac- 
celfory  is  merely  ornamefitaL  In  this  refpe<5l:,  a  fig- 
ure 


Sect.  VIL  Figured  237 

lire  of  fpeech  is  prdcifely  fimilar  to  cbricotdaiit  rounds 
in  mufic,  which  without  contributing  to  the  melody^ 
make  it  harmonious.  I  explain  myfelf  by  examples. 
Touth,  by  a  figure  of  fpeech,  is  termed  the  morn'mg  of 
life.  This  expreffion  fignifies  jo«/A,  the  principal  ob- 
jed:,  which  enters  into  the  thought  :  it  fuggells,  aC 
the  fame  time,  the  proper  fenfe  of  morn'mg  ;  and  this- 
accelfory  objed,  being  in  itfelf  beautiful,  and  conned- 
ed  by  refemblance  to  the  principal  objed:,  is  not  a 
little  ornamental.  Imperious  ocean  is  an  example  of  a 
different  kind,  where  an  attribute  is  exprelfed  figur- 
atively :  together  withy?^;-;;//,  the  figurative  meaning 
of  the  epithet  imperious,  there  is  fuggefted  its  proper 
meaning,  'vlz,  the  ftern  authority  of  a  defpotic  prince  ; 
and  thefe  two  are  ftrongly  connedled  by  refemblance. 
Upon  this  figurative  power  of  words,  Vida  defcants 
with  elegance  : 

Nonne  vides,  verbis  lit  veHs  faepe  telidis 
Accerfant  fimulata,  aliundeque  nomina  porro 
Tranfportent,  aptentque  aliis  ea  rebus  ;  ut  ipfas, 
Exuviafqiie  novas,  res,  infolitofque  colores 
Indutae,  fjepe  extern!  mirentur  ami6lus 
tJnde  illi,  Ista^que  aliena  luce  fruantUr, 
Mutatoque  habitu,  nee  jam  fua  nomina  maltent  ? 
Ssepe  ideo,  cum  bella  canunt,  incendia  credas 
Cernere,  diluviumque  ingens  furgcntibus  undis. 
Contra  etiam  Martis  pugnas  imitabitur  ignis. 
Cum  turit  acccnfis  acies  Vulcania  campis. 
Nee  turbato  oritur  quondam  minor  aquore  pugna  5  . 
Confligunt  animofi  Euri  certamine  vafto 
Inter  fe,  pugnantque  adverfis  molibus  und*e. 
Ufque  adeo  palTim  fua  res  infignia  IsetiE 
Permutantque,  juvantque  vicii'lim  ;  et  mutua  fefe 
Ahera  in  aherius  transtormat  protinus  era. 
Turn  fpccie  capti  gaudent  fpedare  legentcs  : 
Nam  diverfa  fimul  datur  e  re  cernere  eadem 
Multaruin  fimulacra  animo  fubeuntia  rerum. 

Feet,  lib.  3.  /.  44' 
la 


^3^  %?^/-<*j'.  Ch.  XXa 

In  the  next  place,  this  figure  poflefles  a  fignal  pow^* 
er  of  aggrandizing  an  objeci:,  by  the  following  meansi 
Words,  which  have  no  original  beauty  but  what  arifes 
from  their  found,  acquire  an  adventitious  beauty 
from  their  meaning  :  a  \yord  fignifying  any  thing 
that  is  agrecal^le,  becomes  by  that  means  agreeable  ; 
for  the  agreeablenefs  of  the  objeft  is  communicated 
to  its  name.*  This  acquired  beauty  by  the  force  of 
euftom,  adheres  to  the  word  even  when  ufed  figur- 
atively ;  and  the  beauty  received  from  the  thing  it 
properly  fignifies,  is  communicated  to  the  thing 
which  it  is  made  to  fignify  figuratively.  Confider 
the  foregoing  expreflion  Imperious  ocean,  how  much 
more  elevated  it  is  than  Stonily  ocean. 

Thirdly,  This  figure  hath  a  happy  effefl:  by  pre* 
venting  the  familiarity  of  proper  names.  The  fa- 
miliarity of  a  proper  name,  is  communicated  to  the 
thing  it  fignifies  by  means  of  their  intimate  connec- 
tion ;  and  the  thing  is  thereby  brought  down  in  our 
feeling.f  This  bad  effed  is  prevented  by  u.fing  a 
figurative  word  inflead  of  one  that  is  proper  ;  as,  for 
example,  when  we  exprefs  the  fky  by  terming  it  th^ 
blue  vault  of  heaven  ;  for  though  no  work  of  art  can 
compare  with  the  iky  in  grandeur,  the  expreflion 
hov/ever  is  reliilied,  becaufe  it  prevents  the  object 
from  being  brought  down  by  the  familiarity  of  its 
proper  name.  With*  refpeft  to  the  degrading  famil- 
iarity of  proper  names,  Vida  has  the  following  paf- 

fage  : 

HiuG 

*  See  chap.  2.  part  l.  fc£l^.  5. 

\  I  have  oftrn  regretted,  that  a  faftious  fpirir  of  oppolition  to  the 
reionin^J  family  makes  it  nccc fiary  in  public  vvorfhip  to  diningiiifh  the 
Kin«^  hy  1  i<:  proper  name.  One  will  fcarce  imaaine  who  has  not 
marie  the  trial,  howmiich  better  it  founds  to  pray  for  our  Sovereign  Lord 
the  Ki-.g,  without  any  E^ddiiion. 


Sect.  VII.  ^  Figureu  §3^ 

Hinc  fi  dura  mihi  paflus  dicendus  Ulyffes, 
Non  ilium  vero  memorabo  nomine,  fed  qui 
Et  mores  hominum  inultorum  vidit,  et  urbes, 
Naufragus  everfas  poft  feva  incendia  Trojas. 

PocL  lib.  2.  /.  46. 

Laftly,  By  this  figure  language  is  enriched,  and 
rendered  more  copious  ;  in  which  refped,  were  there 
no  other,  a  figure  of  fpeech  is  a  happy  invention^ 
This  property  is  finely  touched  by  Vida  : 

Qiiinetiam  agrioolas  ea  fandi  nota  voluptas 
Exercet,  dum  laeta  feges,  dum  trudere  gemmas 
Jncipimt  vitesj-  fitientiaque  aeiheris  inibrem 
Prata  blbunt,  ridentque  fatis  furgentibus  agri, 
Hanc  vulgo  fpeciem  proprias  pehuria  vocis 
Intullt,  indidlifque  iirgens  in  rebiis  egeflas,. 
Quippe  ubi  fe  v«ra  oftendebantnomina  mifquamji 
FdS  erat  hinc  atque  hinc  transferre  fimillima  veris. 

Poet,  lib,  3.  /.  904 

The  beauties  I  have  mentioned  belong  to  every 
figure  of  fpeech.  Several  other  beauties  peculiar  to 
one  or  other  fort,  I  Ihall  have  occafion  to  remark  af- 
terward. 

Not  only  fubjeds,  but  qualities,  aftions,  efFe6tSj 
may  be  expreffed  figuratively.  Thus,  as  to  fubjeds, 
the  gates  of  breath  for  the  lips,  the  ivatery  kingdom  for 
the  ocean.  As  to  qualides,^^/^'^  for  ftormy,  in  the 
,  expreilion  Fierce  ivinter  :  AltvJ  for  profundm  ;  Alius 
puteiis,  Altiun  mare  :  Breathing  for  perfpiring  ; 
Breathing  phmts.  Again,  as  to  ailions,  The  fea  rag' 
esy  Time  wiil  melt  her  frozen  thoughts.  Time  kills 
grief.  An  efiefl  is  put  for  the  caufe,  as  lux  for  the 
fun  ;  and  a  caufe  for  the  effe<51:,  as  boum  labores  for 
corn.  The  relation  of  refembhmce  is  one  plentiful 
fource  of  figures  of  fpeech  ;  and  nothing  is  more 
common   than  to  apply  to  one  obje<5):  the  name  of 

another 


S4^  F^ures.  Ch.  XXi 

another  that  refembles  it  in  any  refpctl  :  height,  fize, 
and  worldly  greatnefs,  rcfemble  not  each  other  ;  but 
the  emotions  they  p.ouuce  refemble  each  other,  and 
prompted  by  this  refemMarice,  we  naturally  expref$ 
worldly  greatnefs  by  height  or  fize  :  one  feels  a  cer- 
tain -uneafmefs  in  feeing  a  great  depth  ;  and  hence 
depth  is  made  to  exprefs  any  thing  difagreeable  by 
exccfs,  as  dcpi/j  oi  grief,  c/cpi/j  of  defpair  :  again, 
height  of  place,  and  time  long  pafl^,  produce  fmiibr 
feelings  ;  and  hence  the  exprelTion,  Ui  altius  repctavi : 
diflance  in  pall  1-me,  producing  a  ftrong  i^^\;\<g^  is 
put  for  any  flrong  feeling,  Wibil  mlhi  antiquius  nojira 
amkhia  :  fhortnefs  with  relation  to  fpace,  for  fhoi  t- 
nefs  with  relation  to  time,  Brevis  cffe  laboro,  obfcurus 
Jio  :  fuffering  a  punifliment  refembles  paying  a  debt  5 
hence  pendere  pwnas.  Ija.  the  fame  manner,  light  may 
be  put  for  glory,  funfhine  for  profperity,  and  weight 
for  importance. 

Many  words,  originally  figurative,  having,  by  long 
and  conflant  ufe,  loit  their  ligurative  power,  are  de- 
graded to  the  inferior  rank  of  proper  terms.  Thus 
the  words  that  exprefs  the  operations  of  the  mind, 
liave  in  all  languages  been  originally  figurative  :  the 
reafon  holds  in  ail,  that  when  tbefe  operations  came 
firft  under  confideration,  there  was  no  other  way  of 
defcribing  them  but  by  what  they  refembled  :  it  was 
not  pi'aG^icable  %o  give  them  proper  names,  as  may  be 
done  to  objec\s  that  can  be  afcertained  by  fight  and 
touch.  A/^f  nature,  jarring  tempers,  iveight  of  wo, 
pompom  phrafe,  beget  companion,  ajfuage  grief,  break 
a  vow,  bend  the  eye  downward,  Jlyower  down  curfes, 
drown'' d  in  tears,  ivrapt  m  joy,  ivarni^d  with  elo- 
quence, loaded  with  fpoils,  and  a  thoufand  other  ex- 
preffions  of  the  like  nature,  have  loft  their  figurative 
fenfc.  Some  terms  there  are,  that  cannot  be  faid 
to  be  either  altogether  figurative  or  altogether  proper : 

originally 


Sect,  VII.  Figures,  &^t 

originally  figurative,  they  are  tending  to  fimplic* 
ity,  without  having  loft  altogether  their  figurative 
power.  Virgil's  Regina  faucia  cura,  is  perhaps  one  of 
thefe  exprefTions  :  with  ordinary  readers,  faucia  will 
be  confidered  as  expreffing  fimply  the  effed  of  grief ; 
but  one  of  a  lively  imagination  will  exalt  the  phrafe 
into  a  figure. 

For  epitomifing  this  fubjed,  and  at  the  fame  time 
for  giving  a  clear  view  of  it,  I  cannot  think  of  a 
better  method,  than  to  prefent  to  the  reader  a  Hft  of 
the  feveral  relations  upon  which  figures  of  fpeech  are 
commonly  founded.  This  lift  I  divide  into  two  ta- 
bles ;  one  of  fubjedts  exprelfed  figuratively,  and  one 
of  attributes. 

FIRST    TABLE. 

SubjeSls  exprefjed figuratively, 

I.  A  word  proper  to  one  fubjec):  employed  figura« 
tively  to  exprefs  a  refembling  fubjed. 

There  is  no  figure  of  fpeech  fo  frequent,  as  what 
is  derived  from  the  relation  of  referablance.  Youth, 
for  example,  is  fignified  figuratively  by  the  morning 
of  life.  The  life  of  a  man  refembles  a  natural  day 
in  feveral  particulars  :  the  morning  is  the  beginning 
of  day,  youth  the  beginning  of  life  ;  the  morning  is 
cheerful,  fo  is  youth,  &c.  By  another  refemblance, 
a  bold  warrior  is  termed  the  thunderbolt  of  war  j  a 
multitude  of  troubles,  ^fea  of  troubles. 

This  figure,  above  all  others,  affords  pleafure  to 
the  mind  by  variety  of  beauties.  Befide  the  beauties 
above  mentioned,  common  to  all  forts,  it  poffelles  in 
particular  the  beauty  of  a  metaphor  or  of  a  fmiile  : 

a  figure 
Vol.  II.  (^ 


24^..  .  Figures,  Cn.  XX, 

a  figure  of  fpeech  built  upon  refeniblance,  fuggefts- 
always  a  comparlfon  between  the  principal  fubje6t 
and  the  acceflbry  ;  whereby  every  good  effect  of  a 
metaphor  or  fimile,  may  in  a  fliort  and  lively  manner, 
be  produced  by  this  figure  of  fpeech. 

2.  A  word  proper  to  the  effect  employed  figura- 
tively to  exprefs  the  caufe. 

Lux  for  the  fun.  Shadow  for  cloud.  A  helmet 
IS  fignified  by  the  expreffion  glittering  terror.  A  tree 
hy  Jljadow  or  umbrage.     Hence  the  expreffion  : 

Nee  habet  Pelion  umbras.  Ovid. 

Where  the  dun  umbrage  hangs.  Springy  I.  1022- 

A  wound  is  made  to  fignify  an  arrow  : 

Vulnere  non  pedibus  te  confequar.  Ovid<^ 

There  is  a  peculiar  force  and  beauty  in  this  figure  : 
tlie  word  which  fignifies  figuratively  the  principal 
fubjeft,  denotes  it  to  be  a  caufe  by  fuggefling  the  ef- 

fea. 

3.  A  word  proper  to  the  caufe,  employed  figura- 
tively to  exprefs  the  effect. 

•   Bou?nque  labores^  for  corn.     Sorrow  or  griefs  for 
tears. 

Again  UlyfTes  veil'd  his  penfivehead  ; 
Again,  unmann'd,  a  {hovv'r  oijorraw  fhed. 

Streaming  Grief  \\\s  faded  cheek  bedew'd. 

Brmd/icfs  for  daiknefs  : 

Cxzis 


Sect.  VII.  figures',  243 

Caecis  erramus  in  undis.  JEne'id^  iii.  loo. 

There  is  a  peculiar  energy  in  this  figure,  fimilar  to 
that  in  the  former  :  the  figurative  name  denotes  the 
fubjed  to  be  an  efFed,  by  fuggefting  its  caufe. 

4.  Two  things  being  intimately  connefted,  the 
proper  name  of  the  one  employed  figuratively  to  fig- 
jiify  the  other. 

D^y  for  light.  "Night  for  darknefs  ;  and  hence,  A 
fudden  night.     Winter  for  a  florm  at  fea  : 

Inferea  magno  mifceri  murmure  pontum, 
EmilTamque  Hyetnem  knih  Nepiunus. 

yEneidy  i,  128. 

This  laft  figure  would  be  too  bold  for  a  Britifh 
writer,  as  a  florm  at  fea  is  not  infeparably  conneded 
with  winter  in  this  climate. 

5.  A  word  proper  to  an  attribute,  employed  figur- 
atively to  denote  the  fubje^t. 

Touth  and  beauty  for  thofe  who  are  young  and 
beautiful : 

Youth  and  beauty  fhall  be  laid  in  duft. 

Majejly  for  the  King  : 

What  art  thou,  that  ufurp'fl:  this  time  of  night. 

Together  with  that  fair  and  warlike  form, 

In  which  the  Majejiy  of  buried  Denmark 

Did  fonie  time  march  ?  Hamlet ^  a6l  i.fc.i, 

-Or  have  ye  chofcn  this  place 


After  the  toils  of  battle,  to  rcpofe 
Your  weary'd  virtue. 

Parad^fe  Lo/f. 

Qj^  Vcrdurs 


^4'4     ^  Figures*  Ch.  XX* 

Verdure  for  a  green  field.     Stmimer,  I.  301. 
Speaking  of  cranes, 

The  pigmy  nations  wonnds  and  death  they  bring, 
,  And  all  the  war  defcends  upon  the  wing. 

Iliac/,  ili.  10. 

Cool  ag^  advances  venerably  wife.  ■         Iliac/,  iii.  149. 

The  peculiar  beauty  of  this  figure  arifes  from  fug- 
gefting  an  attribute  that  embellifhes   the  fubje<9:,  or 
<^     puts  it  in  a  ftronger  light. 

6.  A  complex  ternV  employed  figuratively  to  de- 
note one  of  the  component  parts, 

Fu?ius  for  a  dead  bt)dy.     Burial  for  a  grave. 

7.  The  name  of  one  of  the  component  parts  in- 
ftead  of  the  complex  term. 

Tc;ec/a  for  a  marriage.  The  Eq/l  for  a  country 
fituated  eaft  from  us.  jfovis  'ue/iigiafer'uat,  for  imi- 
tating Jupiter  in  general.  ' 

8.  A  word  fignifying  time  or  place,  employed 
figuratively  to  denote  what  is  conneded  v/ith  it. 

Clime  for  a  nation  or  for  a  conflitution  of  govern- 
ment :  hence  the  expreflion  Merciful  clime.  Fleecy 
winter  for  fnow,  Seculumfelix* 

9.  A  part  for  the  whole. 

The  Pole  for  the  earth.     The  bead  for  the  perfon  : 

Triginta  minas  pro  capite  tuo  dedi.  Plautus. 

Tergum 


Sect.  VII.  Figures.  245 

Tergum  for  the  man  : 

Fiigiens  tergum.     >  Ovid. 

Vultus  for  the  man  : 

Jam  fulgor  armorum  fugaccs 

Terret  equos,  equitumque  vultus,  HoraU 

Qi^ils  defiderio  fit  pudor  aut  modus 

Tarn  chari  capitis  f  Horat. 

Dumque  virent  genua  P  Horaf. 

Thy  growing' virtues  juftify'd  my  cares, 
And  promis'd  comtbrt  to  myfilver  hairs. 

Ill  ad,  ix.  616. 

■Forthwith  from  the  pool  he  rears 


His  vm^Wy  Jiaiure.  Paradije  LoJ}. 

The  filent  heart  with  grief  alTails.  Parnell. 

The  peculiar  beauty  of  this  figure  confifls  in  mark- 
ing that  part  which  makes  thegreateft  figure. 

10.  The  name  of  the  container,  employed  figur- 
atively to  fignify  what  is  contained. 

Grove  for  the  birds  in  it,  Vocal  grove.  Ships  for 
the  feamen.  Agonizing  /?>/))„'■.  Mountains  for  the  fheep 
pafturing  upon  them,  Bleating  mountains.  Zacynthus, 
Ithaca,  kc.  for  the  inhabitants.  Ex  mcejlis  do?nibus, 
Livy. 

11.  The  name  of  the  fuftainer,  employed  figura- 
tively  to  fignify  what  is  fuftained. 

Altar  for  the  facrifice.  Field  for  the  battle  fought 
upon  it,  Well-fought^f/^/. 

Qj  .        12.  The 


24^  Figures.  Ch.  XX. 

12.  The  name  of  the  materials,  employed  figura- 
tively to  fignify  the  things  made  of  them» 

Ferrwn  for  gladius, 

13.  The  names  of  the  Heathen  deities,  employed 
figuratively  to  fignify  what  they  patronife. 

Jove  for  the  air.  Mars  for  war,  Venus  for  beauty, 
Cupid  for  love,  Ceres  for  corn,  Neptune  for  the  fea, 
Vulcan  for  fire. 

This  figure  beftows  great  elevation  upon  the  fub- 
jed  ;  and  therefore  ought  to  be  confined  to  the  higher 
Itrains  of  poetry. 


SECOND      TABLE.      ' 

Attributes  exprejfed figuratively. 

1.  "When  two  attributes  are  conne^led,  the  name 
of  the  one  may  be  employed  figuratively  to  exprefs 
the  other. 

Purity  and  virginity  ^re  attributes  of  the  fame  per- 
fon  :  hence  the  expreffion.  Virgin  fnow,  for  pure 
fnow. 

2.  A  Vv'ord  fignifying  properly  an  attribute  of  one 
fubjeft,  employed  figuratively  to  exprefs  a  refembhng 
attribute  of  another  fubjeft. 

Tottering  flate.  Imperious  ocean.  Angry  flood. 
Raging  tempeft.     Shallow  fears. 

My 


Sect.  VII.  Figures,   '  247 

My  fure  divinity  fhall  bear  the  Ihield, 

And  edge  thy  fword  to  reap  the  glorious  field. 

OdyJJ'ey,  XX.  61. 

Black  omen^  for  an  omen  that  portends  bad  for- 
tune. 

Iter  odor.  Virgil. 

The  peculiar  beauty  of  this  figure  arlfes  from  fug- 
gefting  a  comparifon. 

3.  A  word  proper  to  the  fubjed,  employed  to  ex- 
prefs  one  of  its  attributes. 

Mem  for  intelle6lus,    Mens  for  a  refolution  : 
Iftam,  oro,  exue  mentem, 

4.  When  two  fubje£ts  have  a  refemblance  by  a 
common  quality,  the  name  of  the  one  fubjeft  may  be 
employed  figuratively  to  denote  that  quaUty  in  the 
other. 

SuriMiier  life  for  agreeable  life, 

5.  The  name  of  the  inilrument  made  to  fignify  the 
power  of  employing  it, 

-Melpomene,  cui  llquidam  pater 


Vocem  cum  cithara  dedit. 

The  ample  field  of  figurative  exprefiion  difplayed 
in  thefe  tables,  afl'ords  great  fcope  for  reafoning. 
Several  of  the  obfervations  relating  to  metaphor,  are 
applicable  to  figures  of  fpcech  :  thefe  I  fliall  llightly 
retouch,  with  fome  additions  peculiarly  adapt>id  tOJ 
the  prefent  fubjccl. 

0^4  I» 


64S  figures.  Ch.  XX* 

In  the  firfl  place,  as  the  figure  under  confideraiioii 
is  built  upon  relation,  we  find  from  experience,  and 
it  mud  be  obvious  from  reafon,  that  the  beauty  of 
the  figure  depends  on  the  intimacy  of  the  relation 
between  the  figurative  and  proper  fenfe  of  the  word. 
A  flight  refemblance,  in  particular,  will  never  make 
this  figure  agreeable  :  the  expreilion,  for  example, 
Drink  dozen  afecret,  for  liflening  to  a  fecret  with 
attention,  is  harfh  and  uncouth,  becaufe  there  is 
fcarce  any  refemblance  between  lijiening  a,nd  drinking. 
The  expreffion  weighty  cracky  ufed  by  Ben  Johnfon 
for  loud  cracky  is  worfe  if  poffible  :  a  loud  found  has 
not  the  ilighteft  refemblance  to  a  piece  of  matter  that 
is  weighty.  The  following  expreffion  of  Lucretius 
is  not  iefs  faulty, "  Et  lepido  quse  i\3Xi\.fucata  fonore.'* 
i.  645. 

Sed  magis 


Pugnas  et  exa«5tos  tyrannos 
Denlum  humeris  bibit  aure  vnlgus. 

Horat.  Carm.  1.  2-  cde  13. 

Phemlus  !  let  a£ls  of  gods,  and  heroes  old. 
What  ancient  bards   in  halt  and  bow'r  have  told, 
Atteinper'd  to  the  lyre,  your  voice  employ, 
Such  the  pleas'd  ear  will  drink  with  filent  joy. 

Odyjfeyy  i.  433. 


Strepitumque  exterritus  haujit. 


-Write,  my  Qiieen, 


Mne'ulf  vi.  559. 


And  with  mine  eyes  III  dn7ih  the  words  you  fend. 

Cyinbeiine,  aCt  l.Jc.  3- 

As  thus  th'  effulgence  tremulous  I  drinh. 

Summer,  I.  1684. 

NequQ 


Sect.  VII.  Figures,  249 

Neque  audit  currus  habenas. 

Georg.  i,  514. 

O  Prince  !  (Lycaon's  valiant  fon  reply'H,) 
As  thine  the  Itteds,  be  thine  the  talk  to  guide. 
The  horfes  pradis'd  to  their  lord's  command. 
Shall  hear  the  rein,  and  anfwer  to  thy  hand, 

Iliad,  V.  288. 

The  following  figures  of  fpeech  feem  altogether 
VJiXd.  and  extravagant,  the  figurative  and  proper  mean- 
ing having  no  connedion  whatever.  Moving  foft- 
nefs,  Frefhnefs  breathes^  Breathi7ig  profped.  Flowing 
fpring.  Dewy  light.  Lucid  coolnefs,  and  many  others 
of  this  falfe  coin,  may  be  found  in  Thompfon's 
Seafons* 

Secondly,  The  proper  fenfe  of  the  word  ought  to 
bear  fome  proportion  to  the  figurative  fenfe,  and 
not  foar  much  above  it,  nor  fink  much  below  it. 
This  rule,  as  well  as  the  foregoing,  is  finely  iiluf- 
trated  by  Vida  : 

Hasc  adeo  cum  fint,  cum  fas  audere  poetis 
Multa  m(:dis  multis  ;  tamen  obfervare  memento 
Si  qiiando  baud  propriis  rem  mavis  dicere  verbis, 
Tranllatifque  aliunde  notis,  longeque  petitis, 
Ne  nimiam  oftendas,    quasrendo  tali,  curam. 
Namque  aliqui  cxcrcent  vim  duram,  et  rebus  inique 
Nativam  eripiunt  formain,  iudignantibus  iplis, 
Invitalque  jubent  alirnos  fumere  vultus 
Hand  magis  imprudens  mini  erit,  et  himlnis  expers, 
Qn\  puero  ingc-ntes  habilus  det  lerre  gigantis, 
Qiiam  fiquis  itabula  alia  lares  appellet  equinos, 
Aut  crines  rrjagnae  genitricis  gramina  dicat. 

Poet.  iii.  148. 

Thirdly,  In  a  figure  of  fpeech,  every  circumftance 
ought  to  be  avoided  that  agrees  with  the  proper  fenfe 

only. 


250     ,  Figures,  Ch.  XX* 

only,  not  the  figurative  fenfe  ;  for  it  is  the  latter 
that  exprefles  the  thought,  and  the  former  ferves  for 
no  other  purpofe  but  to  make  harmony  : 

% 

Zacynthus  green  with  ever-fhady  groves, 
And  Ithaca,  prefumptuous  boaft  their  loves  ; 
Obtrudhig  on  my  choice  a  fecond  lord, 
They  prefs  the  Hymeneaji  rite  abhorr'd. 

Odyffey^  xix.  152.     . 

Zacynthus  here  (landing  figuratively  for  the  inhab- 
itants, the  defcription  of  the  ifl-and  is  quite  out  of 
place  :  it  puzzles  the  reader,  by  making  him  doubt 
whether  the  word  ought  to  be  taken  in  its  proper  or 
figurative  fenfe. 

Write,  my  Qiieen, 


- — ,   — J    -.^^^ ^ 

And  wdth  mine  eyes  I'll  drink  the  words  you  fend. 
Though  ink  be  made  of  gall. 

Cymbeline,  a£l  i.Jc.  2. 

The  difgufl  one  has  to  drink  ink  in  reality,  is  not  to 
the  purpofe  Vi'here  the  fubjeQ:  is  drinking  ink  figura- 
tively. 

In  the  fourth  place.  To  draw  confequences  from  a 
figure  of  fpeech,  as  if  the  word  were  to  be  under- 
ftood  literally,  is  a  grofs  abfurdity,  for  it  is  con- 
founding truth  with  fidion. 

B;  Moubray's  fins  fo  heavy  in  his  bofom, 
That  they  may  break  liis  foaming  courfer's  back, 
And  throw  the  rider  headlong  in  the  lifts, 
A  caitiff  recreant  to  my  coufin  Hereford, 

,  Richard  II.  aSI  I .  fc.  3. 

Sin  may  be  imagined  heavy  in  a  figurative  fenfe  :  but 
weight  in  a  proper  fenfe  belongs  to  the  acceffory  on- 
ly J  and  therefore  to  defer  ibe  the  efi'ecls  of  weight,  is 

to 


Sect.  VIL  Figures^  251 

to  defert  the  principal  fubje£t,  and  to  convert  the  ac- 
ceflbry  into  a  principal  : 

Cromwell.  How  does  your  Grace  ? 

Wolfey.  Why,  v/cll  ; 
Never  fo  truly  iiappy,  my  good  Cromwell, 
I  know  myfelf  now,  and  I  feel  within  me 
A  peace  above  all  earthly  dignities, 
A  Hill  and  quiet  confcience.     The  King  hascur'd  mc, 
I  humbly  thank  his  Grace  ;  and  from  thefe  Ihoulders, 
Thefe  niin'd  pillars,  out  of  pity,  taken 
A  load  would  fink  a  navy,  too  much  honour. 

Henry  Vill.  a£l  i-fc.  6. 

Ulyfies  fpeaking  of  He£lor  ; 

I  wonder  now  how  yonder  city  ftands, 
When  we  have  here  the  bufe  and  pillar  by  us. 

Tro'dus  and  Crcjjida,  adl  4  fc.  9. 

Othello.  No  \  my  heart  is  turn'd  to  (lone  :  I  ftrike  it  and 
it  hurts  my  hand.  Othello,  aul  ^'  jc.<^' 

Not  lefs,  even  in  this  defpicable  now, 

Than  when  my  name  till'd  Afric  with  affrights, 

And  froze  your  hearts  beneath  your  torrid  zone. 

Don  Sebojllan,  Kii'g  of  Portugal,  a£f  I. 

How  long  a  fpace,  fince  firfl:  I  lov'd,  it  is  ! 

To  look  into  a  glafs  I  fear, 
And  am  furpris'd  with  woncier,  when  I  mifs 

Grey  hairs  and  wrinkles  ilieie, 

Ci^wicy,  vol.  I.  p.  86. 

I  chofe  the  flonrifliing'fl:  tree  in  all  the  park. 

With  frelhcll  boughs  and  falrefi  head  ^ 
I  cut  my  love  into  Ins  gentle  bark, 

And  in  three  days  beliold  'tis  dead  ; 
My  very  written  flames  fo  violent  be, 
71iey've  burnt  and  wither'd  up  the  tree. 

Cowlev,vol.  I.  p.  136. 
Ah. 


252  ■  Figures,  Ch.  XX. 

Ah,  mighty  Love,  that  it  were  inward  heat 
Which  made  this  precious  limbeck  fweat  ! 

But  what,  alas  !  ah  what  does  it  avail, 
That  file  weeps  tears  fo  wond'rous  cold, 
As  fcarce  the  afs's  hoof  can  hold, 

So  cold,  that  I  admire  they  tall  not  hail, 

Cowley,  vol.  i.p.  132. 

Such  a  play  of  words  is  pleafant  in  a  ludicrous  poem* 

Almeria.  O  Alphonfo,  Alphoiifb  ! 
Devouring  feas  have  wafli'd  thee  from  my  fight, 
No  time  fiiall  rafe  thee  from  my  memory  ; 
No,  I  will  live  to  be  thy  monument : 
The  cruel  ocean  is  no  more  thy  tomb  ; 
But  in  my  heart  thou  art  interr'd. 

AIo Liming  Bride,  a£l  l-Jc.  r. 

lliis  would  be  very  right,  if  there  were  any  inconfift- 
ence,  in  being  interred  in  one  place  really,  and  in  an-, 
other  place  figuratively, 

Je  crains  que  cette  faifon 

Ne  nous  amene  la  pclle  ; 

La  gueule  du  chien  celefte 

Vomit  feu  fur  I'liorifon. 

Afin  que  je  m'en  delivre, 

Je  veux  lire  ton  gros  livre 

Jufques  an  dernier  feuillet  : 

Tout  ce  que  la  plume  trace, 

Robiner,  a  de  la  glace 

i'\  fiiire  trembler  J  uillet.  Maynard^ 

In  me  tota  ruf^ns  Venus 
Cypium  defcruit. 

Horat.  Cann.  I.  I.  ode  19. 

From  confiderlng  that  a  Vv^ord  ufed  in  a  figurative 
fenfe  fugged s  at  the  fame  time  its  proper  meaning, 
we  difcover  a  fifth  rule,  That  we  ought  not  to  cm- 
ploy  a  word  in  a  figurative  fenfe,  the  proper  lenfe  of 

which 


Sect.  Vll.'  Tiguref*  25^ 

which  is  Tftconfiftent  or  incongruous  with  the  fubjed : 
for  every  inconfiflency,  and  even  incongruity,  though 
in  the  exprefTion  only  and  not  real,  is  unpleafant. 

Interea  genitor  Tyberini  ad  fluminis  undam 

Vyiin&tz  ficcabat  lymphit. — ' 

Mneidf  x.  83,3. 

Tres  adeo  incertos  caeca  caHgineyi/?^ 
Erramus  pslago,  totidem  fine  fidere  no6les, 

JEyieid.,  iii.  203. 

The  foregoing  rule  may  be  extended  to  form  a 
fixth.  That  no  epithet  ought  to  be  given  to  the  figur^ 
ative  fenfe  of  a  word  that  agrees  not  alfo  with  its 
proper  fenfe  : 

-Dicat  Opuntije 


Pirate r  Megilla;,  quo  beatus 

Vulnere.  Horaf,  Carm.Iib.  i.  ode  27. 

Parens  deorum  cultor,  et  infrequens, 
hifanientis  durn  fapientias 

Confulius  erro.  Herat.  Carm.  lib.  i.  ode  34. 

Seventhly,  The  crowding  into  one  period  or 
thought  different  figures  of  fpeech,  is  not  lefs  faulty 
than  crowding  metaphors  in  that  manner  :  the  mind 
is  diftraded  in  the  quick  tranfition  from  one  image 
to  another,  and  is  puzzled  inftead  of  being  pleafed : 

I  am  of  la»;ies  moft  deje6l  and  wretched, 
That  fuck'd  die  honey  of  his  mufic-vows. 

Hamlet. 

My  bleeding  bofom  fickens  at  the  found. 

OdyJJ'ey,  i.  439. 

. Ah  mi  Per, 


Q^ianta  laboras  in  Charyhdi  ! 
Digne  puer  m^Woxc  Jlamma, 

Quae 


ft54  Pigurei,         /  Ch,  XX» 

Q^itt  faga,  quls  te  folvere  TlKiTalis  '' 

Ma^us  vencuisy  quis  poteiit  deus  ? 
Vix  illigatuiTite  tritormi 
Pegafus  expediet  Chimera. 

Herat.  Carm.  I'lh.  t.  ode  27. 

Eighthly,  If  crowding  figures  be  bad,  it  is  ftill 
worfe  to  graft  one  figure  upon  another  :  For  in- 
ftance, . 

While  his  keen  falchion  drinks  the  warriors  lives. 

Iliady  xi.   211. 

A  falchion  drinking  the  warriors  blood  is  a  figure 
built  upon  refemblance,  which  is  pafiable.  But  then 
in  the  expreffion,  lives  is  again  put  for  blood  ;  and  by 
thus  grafting  one  figure  upon  another  the  expref- 
fion is  rendered  obfcure  and  unpleafant. 

Ninthly,  Intricate  and  involved  figures  that  can 
fcarce  be  analyfed,  or  reduced  to  plain  language,  are 
lead  of  all  tolerable  t 

Voiis  incendimus  aras.  Mne'idy  iii.  279. 

. — Onerantque  caniflris 

Duna  laboratae  Cereris.  Mncldf  viii.  180. 

Vulcan  to  the  Cyclopes  : 

Arma  acri  facienda  viro  :  nunc  viribns  iifiis, 
Nunc  manibus  rapidis,  omni  nunc  arte  magiftra  : 
Prcedp'itate  moras.  Mr.eid,  viii.  441, 

Huic  gladio,  pcrquc  xrea  futa 


Per  tunicam  fqualcutcni  auro,  latus  haur'it  apertum. 

JEneldy  X.  313. 

Serantique  puris  tarda  neceflltas 
Lcthi,  corripuit  gradun:!. 

Herat.  Carm.  lib.  I.  ode  3. 
Scriberis 


Sect.  VII.  Figures,  i2j5 

Scriberis  Vario  fartis,  et  hoftium 
ViiSlpr,  Maeonii  carminis  alite. 

Horat.  Carm.  Uh.  i.  ode  6. 

Elfe  fhall  our  fates  be  number'd  with  the  dead. 

Iliady  V.  294. 

Commutual  death  the  fate  of  war  confounds. 

Iliad y  viii.  85.  andxu  117. 

Speaking  of  Proteus  : 

Inftant  he  wears,  ekifive  of  the  rape, 
The  mimic  force  of  every  favage  Ihape. 

Odyffeyy  iv.  563. 


Rolling  convulfive  on  the  floor,  is  feen 
The  piteous  obje<5l  of  a  proftrate  Qiieen. 

Ibid.  iv.   952. 

The  mingling  temped  waves  its  gloom. 

Jufiunn,  33y, 

A  various  fweetnefs  fwells  the  gentle  race. 

Uid.  640. 

A  fober  calm  fleeces  unbounded  ether. 

Uid.  967. 

The  diftant  water-fall  fwells  in  the  breeze. 

fFinter,   738. 

In  the  tenth  place.  When  a  fubjeft  is  introduced 
by  its  proper  name,  it  is  abfurd  to  attribute  to  it  the 
properties  of  a  different  fubjed:  to  which  the  word  is 
fometimes  applied  in  a  figurative  fenfe  : 

Hear  me,  oh  Neptune  !  thou  whofe  arms  are  hurVd 
From  fhore  to  fliore,  and  gird  the  lolid  v/orld. 

Qdyjfey,  ix.  617. 

Neptune    . 


ft $6  Figures.  Ch.  XX, 

Neptune  is  here  introduced  perfonally^  and  not  fig- 
uratively for  the  ocean  :  the  d-fcription  therefore, 
which  is  only  appHcable  to  the  latter,  is  altogether 
improper. 

It  is  not  fufficient,  that  a  figure  of  fpeech  be  regu- 
larly conflructed,  and  be  free  from  blemifh  :  it 
requires  tzile  to  difcern  when  it  is  proper,  when  im- 
proper ;  and  tafle,  I  fufpeft,  is  our  only  guide.  One 
however  may  gather  from  refleftion  and  experience, 
that  ornaments  and  graces  fuit  not  any  of  the  difpir- 
iting  paffions,  nor  are  proper  for  expreffing  any  thing 
grave  and  important.  In  familiar  converfaticn,  they 
are  in  fome  meafure  ridiculous  :  Profpero,  in  the 
Tempeji,  fpeaking  to  his  daughter  Miranda,  fays, 

The  fringed  curtains  of  thine  eyes  advance. 
And  fay  what  thou  fecft  yond. 

No  exception  can  be  taken  to  the  julfnefs  of  the 
figure  ;  and  circumftances  may  be  imagined  to  make 
it  proper  ;  but  it  is  certainly  not  proper  in  familiar 
converfaticn. 

In  the  laft  place,  Though  figures  of  fpeech  have  a 
charming  effect  when  accurately  conitrudled  and 
properly  introduced,  they  ought  however  to  be  fcat- 
tered  with  a  fparing  hand  :  nothing  is  more  lufcious, 
and  nothing  confequently  more  fatiating,  than  redun- 
dant ornaments  of  any  kind. 


CHAP. 


Ch.  XXL         Narration  a?id  Defcription,  257 


CHAP.     XXL 

Narration  and  Defcription. 


H^ 


.OR.ACE,  and  many  critics  after  him, 
exhort  writers  to  chcofe  a  fubjeft  adapted  to  their 
genius.  Such  obfervations  would  multiply  rules  of 
criticifm  \vithout  end  ;  and  at  any  rate  belong  not  to 
the  prefent  work,  the  obje£t  of  which  is  human 
nature  in  general,  and  what  is  common  to  thefpecies. 
But  though  the  choice  of  a  fubje6t  comes  not  under 
fuch,  a  plan,  the  manner  of  execution  comes  under 
it  ;  becaufe  the  manner  of  execution  is  fubje£led  to 
general  rules,  derived  from  principles  common  to  the 
Ipecies.  Thefe  rules,  as  they  concern  the  things 
cxprelTed  as  well  as  the  language  or  exprefTion, 
require  a  divifion  of  this  chapter  into  two  parts  ; 
firft  of  thoughts,  and  next  of  words.  I  pretend  not 
to  juftify  this  divifion  as  entirely  accurate  :  for  in 
difcourfmg  of  thoughts,  it  is  difficult  tQ/  abftraft 
altogether  from  the  words  ;  and  Hill  more  difficult, 
in  difcourfmg  of  words,  to  abilrad  altogether  from 
the  thought. 

The  firft  rule  is,  That  in  hiltory,  the  refleclions 
ought  to  be  chafle  and  folid  ;  for  while  the  mind  is 
intent  upon  truth,  it  is  little  difpofed  lo  the  operations 
of  the  imagination.  Strada's  Belgic  hiftory  is  full 
of  poetical  images,  which  difcording  with  the  fubjed:, 
are  unpleafant  ;  and  they  have  a  {till  worfe  effeft,  by 
giving  an  air  of  fiftion  to  a  genuine  hiPtory.  Such 
flowers  ought  to  be  fcattered  with  a  fparing  hand, 
even  in  epic  poetry  j  and  at  no  rate  are  they  proper, 

till 
Vol.  IL  R 


258  Narration  and Defcript'ion,         Ch.  XXL 

till  the  reader  be  warmed,  and  by  an  enlivened 
imagination  be  prepared  to  relifh  them  :  in  that  ftate 
of  mind  they  are  agreeable  ;  but  while  \^e.  are  fedate' 
and  attentive  to  an  hifhorical  chain  of  facls,  we  reje6b 
with  difdain,  every  fiction.  This  Belgic  hiflory  is 
indeed  wofully  vicious  both  in  matter  and  in  form  : 
it  is  fluffed  with  frigid  and  unmeaning  reflections  f 
and  its  poetical  flaflies,  even  laying  afide  their  impro- 
priety, are  mere  tinfel. 

Second,  Vida,*  following  Horace,  recommends  a 
modeil  commencement  of  an  epic  poem  ;  giving  for 
a  reafon,  That  the  writer  ought  to  hulband  his  fire. 
This  reafon  has  weight  ;  but  what  is  faid  above  fug- 
geds  a  reafon  llill  more  weighty  :  bold  thoughts  and 
figures  are  iiever  reliflied  till  the  mind  be  heated 
^nd  thoroughly  engaged,  which  is  not  the  reader's 
cafe  at  the  commencement.  Homer  introduces  not 
a  fingle  fimile  in  the  firft  book  of  the  Iliad,  nor  in. 
the  firfl  book  of  the  Odyffey.  On  the  other  handy 
Shakefpear  begins  one  of  his  plays  wirh  a  fentiment 
too  bold  for  the  mofl  heated  imagination  i 

Bedford.  Hung  be  the  heav'jis  with  black,  yield  day  Xo 
night  ! 
Comets,  importing  change  of  times  and  ftatcs, 
Brandilh  your  cryftal  trelles  in  the  iky, 
And  with  them  fcourge  the  bad  revolting  fears. 
That  have  confenied  unto  Henry's  death  ! 
Henry  the  Fifth,  too  famous  to  live  long  ! 
England  ne'er  loft  a  king  of  fo  much  worth. 

Fir/i  Part,  Henry  VI. 

The  palfage  with  which  Strada  begins  his  hiilory,  is 
too  poetical  for  a  fubject  of  that  kind  ;  and  at  any 
rate  too  high  for  the  beginning  of  a  grave  perform- 
ance. A  third  reafon  ought  to  have  no  lefs  influence 
than  either  of  the  former,  That  a  man,  who,  upon- 

his 
*■  Poet,  lib,  2.  1.  30. 


Ch.  XXL        Narration  and  Defcriptlom  ^59 

his  firfl  appearance,  ftrains  to  make  a  figure,  is  too 
oflentatious  to  be  relifhed.  Hence  the  firfl  fentences 
of  a  work  ought  to  be  ihort,  natural  and  fimple. 
Cicero,  in  his  oration  pro  Archia  poeta,  errs  againffc 
this  rule  :  his  reader  is  out  of  breath  at  the  very 
firft;  period  ;  which  feeins  never  to  end.  Burnet  be- 
gins the  Hiilory  of  his  Own  Tirties  with  a  period  long 
nnd  intricate. 

A  third  rule  or  obfervation  is.  That  where  the 
fubjecl  is  intended  for  entertainment  folely,  not  for 
inflrudion,  a  thing  ought  to  be  defcribed  as  it  ap- 
pears, not  as  it  is  in  reality.  In  running,  for  ex- 
ample, the  impulfe  upon  the  ground  h  proportioned 
in  fome  degree  to  the  celerity  of  motion  :  though  in 
appearance  it  is  otherwife  ;  for  a  perfon  in  fwift  mo- 
tion feems  to  fldm  the  ground,  and  fcarcely  to  totich 
it.  Virgil,  with  great  tafte,  defcribes  quick  running 
according  to  appearance  ;  and  raifes  an  image  far 
more  lively  than  by  adhering  fcrupuloufly  to  truth  : 

Hos  fuper  advenit  Volfca  de  gente  Camilla, 
Agmen  agens  equitum  et  florcntes  asre  catervas, 
Bellairix  :   non  ilia  colo  calathifve  Mincrvai 
Foemineas  aiVueta  mamis  ;  fed  pra;lia  virgo 
Dura  pati,  curluqae  pedum  praivertcre  v^tos. 
Ilia  vel  inta<^x  fegetis  per  furnma  volaret 
Gramina  :   nee  teneras  curfii  iirlliret  ariftas  : 
Vel  mare  per  medium,  fludu  fiitpenfa  tiimenti. 
Ferret  iter  j    celcres  nee  tingeret  xqnore  pla'ntas. 

JEneici,  vii.  80?. 

This  example  is  copied  by  the  author  of  Telejnachus : 

Les  Brmiens  font  legeres  a  la  coinie  comme  Ics  cei f^:,  et 
comme  les  daims.  On  croiroit  qne  i'hcrbememe  la  plus 
tcndre  n'eft  point  fou'ee  feus  leurs  pieds  ;  a  peine  laiilent- 
ils  dans  Ic  Table  quelques  traces  de  Icui^  ^.^:. 

Liv.  lo. 
R  2  Again : 


26o  Narration  and  Dcfmption,         Cri.  XX t 

Again  : 

Deja  il  avoit  abattu  Eufilas  fi  leger  a  la  courfe,  qii'a 
peine  il  imprimoit  la  trace  de  fes  pas  dans  le  fable,  tt  qui 
devancolt  dans  fon  pays  les  plus  rapides  flots  de  I'Eurotas 
et  de  rAlpl;ee.  Liv.  20. 

Fourth,  In  narration  as  well  as  in  defcription,  ob- 
jeds  ou^ht  to  be  painted  fo  accurately  as  to  form  in 
the  mind  of  the  reader  diflinft  and  hvely  images. 
Every  ufelefs  circumftance  ought  indeed  to  be  fup- 
prefTed,  becaufe  every  fuch  circumftance  loads  the 
narration  ;  but  if  a  circumftance  be  necelTary,  how- 
ever flight,  it  cannot  be  defcribed  too  minutely.  The 
force  of  language  confifts  in  raifmg  complete  im- 
ages ;*  which  have  the  efFed  to  tranlport  the  reader 
as  by  magic  into  the  very  place  of  the  important  adlion, 
and  to  convert  him  as  it  were  into  a  fpecl:ator,  be- 
holding every  thing  that  paffes.  The  narrative  in  an 
epic  poem  ought  to  rival  a  piclure  in  the  livelinefs  and 
accuracy  of  its  reprefentations  :  no  circumftance  muft 
be  omJtted  that  tends  to  make  a  complete  image  ;  be- 
caufe an  imperfeft  image,  as  well  as  any  other  im- 
perfeft  conception,  is  cold  and  uninterefting.  I  fhalt 
illuftrate  this  rule  by  feveral  examples,  giving  the 
firft  place  to  a  beautiful  palTage  from  Virgil  : 

Qualis  populeci  mocrens  Philomela  Tub  umbra 
Amilfos  queritur  foetus,  quos  durus  arator 
Obfervans  nido  implumei  detraxit. 

Georg,  lib.  4.  /,  511. 

The  poplar,  ploughman,  and  unfledged  young, 
though  not  eifential  in  the  defcription,  tend  to  make 
a  complete  image,  and  upon  that  account  are  an: 
embellilhment. 

Again  j 

f  Chap.  2.  part  1.  fe£l.  7, 


Ch.  XXI.         }<farration  and  Defcriptlon,  ^6r 

Again  : 

Hie  viriJem  Mnt^s  f ran  dent  i  ex  Hue  metam^ 
Conftituit,  fignum  nautis.  JEneid,  v.  1.29. 

Horace,  addreiling  to  Fortune  ; 

Te  pauper  ambit  follicita  prece 
jRiiris  colonus  :  te  dominani  a;quoris, 
Qi^iicumque  Bithyna  lacellit 
Carpathium  pelagus  carina. 

Ctrm,  lib.  i.  ode  35. 

r —IlUim  ex  mccnibus  hoflicis 


'  Matrona  bellantis  lyranni 

Profpiciens,  et  adulta  virgo, 
Sufpiret  :   Eheii,  ne  rudis  agminum 
Sponfus  lacellat  regius  afperuni 
Tadlu  leonem,  quern  cruenta 
Per  medias  rapitira  ciedes. 

Carm.  lib.  3.  ode  2. 

Shakefpear  fays,*  "  You  may  as  well  go  about  to 
turn  the  fun  to  ice  by  fanning  in  his  face  witl>  a  pea- 
cock^ s  feather."  The  peacock's  feather,  not  to  men- 
tion the  beauty  of  the  object,  completes  the  image  : 
an  accurate  image  cannot  be  formed  of  that  fanciful 
operation,  without  conceiving  a  particular  feather  ; 
and  one  is  at  a  lofs  when  this  is  negledled  in  the  de- 
fcription.  Again,  "  the  rogues  flighted  me  into  the 
river  with  as  little  remorfe,  as  they  would  have 
drown'd  a  bitch's  blind  puppies,  fifteen  i'  th'  litter.t" 

Old  Ladp    You  would  not  be  a  queen  ? 
Anne.    No  not  tor  all  the  riches  under  heav'n. 
Old  Lady.    'Tis  {{range  :  a  threepence    bowVt  would 
hire  me,  old  as  I  am,  to  queen  it. 

lie riry\^ ill.  atil.fc  ^. 
In 

*  Henry  V.  zfl  4.  Tc.  4.    f  Merry  Wives  cf  Wiiidfor,  aQ  3.  Tc.  ij^ 


^62  'Narration  and  Defcriptlon,        Ch.  XXL 

In  the  following  paflage,  the  adion  with  all  its  ma- 
terial circumflances,  is  reprefented  fo  much  to  the 
life,  that  it  would  fcarce  appear  more  diftindl  to  a, 
real  fpeftator ;  and  it  is  the  manner  of  defcription 
that  contributes  greatly  to  the  fublimity  of  the  paf" 
fage. 

He  rpake  ;  and  to  confirm  his  words,  out -flew 
Millions  ot  flaming  fwords,  drawn  from  the  thighs 
Of  mighty  cherubim  ;  the  fudden  blaze 
Far  round  illumin'd  hell  :  highly  they  rag'd 
Again  ft  the  Higheft,  and  fierce  with  grafped  arms 
Cbili'd  on  their  founding  Ihields  the  din  of  war. 
Hurling  defiance  toward  the  vault  of  heav'n. 

Milton y  b.  I. 

A  paflage  I  am  to  cite  from  Shakefpear,  falls  not 
much  fliort  of  that  now  mentioned  in  particularity 
of  defcription  : 

O  you  hard  hearts  !  you  cruel  men  of  Rome  ! 
Knew  you  not  Pompey  ?   Many   a  time  and  oft 
Have  you  climb'd  up  to  walls  and  battlements. 
To  towers  and  windows,  yea,  to  chimney-tops, 
Yoiir  infants  in  your  arms  ;  and  there  have  fat 
The  live-k)ng  day  with  patient  expectation 
To  fee  great  Pompey  pafs  the  ftrcets  of  Rome  ; 
And  when  you  faw  his  chariot  Ixit  appear, 
H^ve  you  not  made  an  univerfal  fliout. 
That  Tyber  trembled  underneath  his  banks, 
To  hear  the  replication  of  your  founds, 
Made  in  his  concave  ftiores  ? 

Jul  ins  Co- far,  a£l  i.  fc.  I. 

The  following  paflage  is  fcarce   inferior  to  either 
of  thofe  mentioned  : 

Far  before  the  refl:,  the  Ton  of  Oilian  comes  ;  bright    ia 
the  fmiles  of  youth,  fair  as  the  firit  beams  of  the  fun.     His 

long 


Ch.  XXI.         Narration  and  Dcfcripiion,  iG^ 

lono- hair  waves  on  his  back  :  his  dark  brow  is  half  be- 
neath his  helmet.  The  fword  hangs  loofe  on  the  hero's 
fids  \  and  his  fpear  glitters  as  he  moves.  I  fled  from  his 
terrible  eye,  King  of  high  Tcmora.  Flngal. 

The  Henriade  of  Voltaire  errs  greatly  agalnft  the 
foregoing  rule  :  every  incident  is  touched  in  a  fum- 
mary  way,  without  ever  defcending  to  circumftances. 
This  manner  is  good  in  a  general  hiilory,  the  pur- 
pofe  of  which  is  to  record  important  tranfaftions  : 
but  in  a  fable  it  is  cold  and  uninterefling  ;  becaufe 
it  is  impracticable  to  form  diftind  images  of  perfons 
or  things  reprefented  in  a  manner  fo  fuperficial. 

It  is  obferved  above,  that  every  ufelefs  circumflance 
ought  to  be  fupprefled.  The  crowding  fuch  circum- 
ftances, is,  on  the  one  hand,  no  lefs  to  be  avoided, 
than  the  concifenefs  for  which  Voltaire  is  blamed,  on 
the  other.  In  the  Mneid,*"  Barce,  the  nurfe  of  Si- 
chasus,  whom  v/e  never  hear  of  before  nor  after,  is 
introduced  for  a  purpofe  not  more  important  than  to 
call  Anna  to  her  fifter  Dido  :  and  that  it  might  not 
be  thought  unjuft  in  Dido,  even  in  this  trivial  circum- 
flance, to  prefer  her  hulband's  nurfe  before  her  own, 
the  poet  takes  care  to  inform  his  reader,  that  Dido's 
nurfe  was  dead.  To  this  I  mull  oppofe  a  beautiful 
paffage  in  the  fame  book,  where,  after  Dido's  laft 
fpeech,  the  poet,  without  detaining  his  readers  by 
defcribing  the  manner  of  her  death,  haftens  to  the 
lamentation  of  her  attendants  : 

Dixerat  :  atque  illam  media  inter  talia  ferro 
Collapfam  afpiciunt  comiics,  cnfcmque  cruorc 
Spumantem,  fparfvifque  mantis.     It  clamor  ad  alta 
Atria,  concultam  bacchatur  fama  per  urbem  ^ 
Lamentis  gemitnque  et  t(]emineo  uhrKitii 
Tecla  fremunt,  refonat  magnis  plangoiibus  a:ther. 

l,b.  4.  /.  66-. 
As 

*l,ib.  4.  1.  63-}. 


264  Narration  and  t)efcnption.         Ch.  XXL 

As  an  appendix  to  the  foregoing  rule,  I  add  the 
following  obfervation,  That  to  make  a  fudden  and 
flrong  imprefilon,  fome  fingle  circumflance  happily 
feledted,  has  more  power  than  the  moil  laboured  de- 
fcripiion.  Macbeth,  mentioning  to  his  lady  fome; 
voices  he  heard  while  he  was  murdering  the  King,  fays, 

There's  one  did  laugh  in  fleep,  and  one  cry'd  Murder  ! 
They  wak  d  each  otlier  ;  and  1  ftood  and  heard  them  ; 
But  they  did  fuy  their  prayers,  and  addrefs  them 
Again  to  fleep.  '  • 

Lady.  There  are  two  lodg'd  together. 

Macbeth.  One  cry'd,  God  blefs  usl  and  Amen  the  other  ; 
As  they  hatl  feen  me  with  thelc  hangman's  hands. 
Liftening  their  fear,  I  could  not  lay  Auicn, 
When  tnev  did  fay,  God  blefs  uf. 

Lady.   Conhder  it  not  To  deeply. 

Macbeth.  But  wherefore  could  not  I  pronounce  i'lmcn  ? 
1  had  moft  need  of  blefling,  and  Amen 
Stuck  in  my  throat. 

Lady.  Tiiefe  deeds  muR  not  be  thought 
Alter  thefe  ways  ;   fo  it  will  make  us  mad. 

Macbeth.   Methoitght,  I  heard  a  voice  cry, 
Sleep  no  more  ! 
Macbeth  doth  murder  lleep,  lye.  A£f  2.  fc.  3. 

Alphonfo,  in  the  Mourning  Bride,  fhut  up  in  the 
fame  prifon  where  his  father  had  been  confined  : 

In  a  daik  corner  of  my  cell  I  found 
Thir,  paper,  what  it  is  this  light  will  fiiow. 

•'  If  iny  Aiphonfo" ^-Ha  !  ^  IReadi/ig. 

*'  If  my  Aiphonfo  live,  reftore  him,  Heav'n  ; 

Give  t-ne  more  weight,  crulh  my  declining  years 

With  bolts,  with  chains,  irnprilonment  and  want  ; 

33ut  biefs  my  fon,  vifit  not  him  for  me." 

It  is  his  hand  ;  this  was  his  pray'r — Yet  more  ; 

«<  Let  ev'ry  hair,  which  forrow  by  the  roots  [Reading. 

Tears  from  rny  hoary  and  devoted  head, 

Be  doubled  in  thy  mercies  to  my  fon  : 

Not  for  mvfelf,  but  him,  hear  mc  all-gracious" — 

*Tis  wanting  what  Ihouldioliow Heav'n  ihould  follow. 

But 


Ch.  XXI.         Narration  and  Defcrlptlon,  265 

But  'tis  torn  off — Why  fhould  that  word  alone 

Be  torn  from  liis  petition  ?   'Twas  to  Heav'n, 

But  Heav'n  was  deaf,  Heav'n  heard  him  not  ;  but  thus. 

Thus  as  the  name  of  Heav'n  from  this  is  torn, 

So  did  it  tear  the  ears  of  mercy  from 

His  voice,  fliutting  the  gates  of  pray'r  againft  him. 

If  piety  be  thus  debarr'd  accefs 

On  high,  and  of  good  men  the  very  befl 

Is  Tingled  out  to  bleed,  and  bear  the  fconrge, 

What  is  reward  ?  or  what  is  punilbment  r 

But  who  fl^all  dare  to  tax  eternal  jultice  ? 

Mourning  Bride,  a£i  '}^-  Jc-  I. 

This  incident  is  a  happy  invention,  and  a  mark  of 
uncommon  genius. 

Befcribing  Prince  Henry  : 

I  favv  young  Harry,  with  his  beaver  on. 
His  cuilTes  on  his  thighs,  gallantly  armd, 
Rife  from  the  ground  like  feathcr'd  Mercury  ; 
And  vaulted  with  fuch  cafe  into  his  feat, 
As  if  an  angel  drf)pt  down  from  the  clouds, 
To  turn  and  wind  a  fiery  Pegafus, 
And  witch  the  world  with  noble  horfemanfhip. 

Firji part,  Henry  IV.  acl  4.  fc.  2. 

King  Henry.   Lord  Cardinal,    if  thou  think'll   on  Heav- 
en's blifs, 
Hold  up  thy  hand,  make  fignal  of  tliy  hope. 
He  dies,  and  makes  no  fign  ! 

Second  part,  Henry  VI.  aSl  y  P'  lc>« 

The  fame  author  fpeaking  ludicroufiy  of  an  army 
debilitated  with  difeafes,  favs, 

Half  of  them  dare  not  Tnake  the  fnow  from  off  their  caf- 
focks,  leil  they  Ihake  thenifelves  to  pieces. 

I  have  feen  the  walls  of  Balclutha,  but  they  were  defo- 
late.  The  tiames  had  refounded  in  the  h.alls  :  and  the  voice 
ot  the  people  is  heard  no  more.    The  Itreara  of  Cluiha  was 

removed 


^66  Narration  and  Defcription,         Ch.  XXL 

removed  from  its  place  by  the  fdl  of  the  walls.  Thethiftle 
fliook  there  its  lonely  head  :  the  mofs  whiftled  to  the  wind. 
The  iox  looked  out  from  the  windows  :  and  the  rank  grafs 
of  the  wall  waved  ro^md  his  head.  Defolate  is  the  dwell- 
ing of  Morna  :  filence  is  in  the  houfe  of  her  lathers. 

To  draw  a  characler  is  the  mafter-ftroke  of  de» 
fcrlption.  In  this  Tacitus  excels  :  his  portraits  are 
natural  and  lively,  not  a  feature  wanting  nor  mif- 
placed.  Shakefpear,  however,  exceeds  Tacitus  in 
livelinefs,  fome  chara^leriillcal  circumftance  being 
generally  invented  or  laid  hold  of,  which  paints 
more  to  the  life  than  many  words.  The  following 
inftances  vdll  explain  my  meaning,  and  at  the  fanie 
time  prove  my  obfervation  to  be  jufl. 

Why  fliould  a  man,  whofe  blood  is  warm  within, 
Sit  like  liis  grandfire  cut  in  alabafler  ? 
Sleep  when  Ire  wakes,  and  creep  into  the  jaundice, 
Bv  bt-ing  peeviih  ?   I  tell  tliee  what,  Anthonio, 
(1  love  thee,  and  it  is  my  love  that  fpeaks,) 
There  are  a  fort  of  men,  whofe  vifuges 
Do  cream  and  mantle  like  a  (landing  pond  ; 
And  do  a  wilfu!  ftillnefs  entertain, 
With  purpofe  to  be  drefs'd  in  an  opinion 
Of  wifdom,  gravity,  profound  conceit  ; 
J\s  who  fhould  fay,  I  am  Sir  Oracle, 
,    And  when  I  ope  my  lips,  let  no  dog  bark  ! 
O  my  Anthonio,  1  do  know  ot  thole, 
That  thcretore  only  are  reputed  wife, 
For  faying  nothing. 

Merchant  cfVcKice,  aCl  l.fc.  2, 

Again  : 

Gratiano  fpeaks  an  infiiiite  deal  of  nothing,  rnore  than 
any  man  in  all  Venice  :  his  rcafons  are  tvv-o  grainsof  wheat 
hid  in  two  buHicls  of  chaff  ;  you  fhall  feek  all  day  ere  you 
find  t'aem,  and  when  you  have  them  they  are  not  worth  tl.c 
fearch.  .  //">/. 

In 


Ch.  XXI.        Narration  and  Defcription.  i6y 

In  the  following  paflage  a  character  is  completed'  by 
a  fingle  Itroke. 

Shallow.  O  the  mad  days  that  I  have  fpent  :  and  to  fee 
how  many  of  mine  old  acquaintance  are  dead. 

Silence.  We  (hall  all  follow,  Coufm. 

Shallow.  Certain,  'tis  certain,  very  fure,  very  fure  ; 
Death  (as  the  PfalmilT:  faith)  is  certain  to  all  :  all  Ihall  die. 
How  a  good  yoke  of  bullocks  at  Stamford  fair  ? 

Slender.  Truly,  Coufm,  I  was  not  there. 

Shallow.  Death  is  certain.  Is  old  Double  of  your  tov/n 
living  yet  ? 

Silence.   Dead,  Sir. 

Shallow.  Dead  !  fee,  fee  ;  he  drew  a  good  bow  :  and 
dead.     He  fhot  a  fine  Ihoot.     How  a  fcore  of  ewes  now  i' 

Silence.  Thereafter  as  they  be.  A  fcore  of  good  ewes 
may  be  worth  ten  pounds. 

Shallow.  And  is  old  Double  dead  ? 

Second  party  Henry  IV.  aSl  I'fc  3. 

Defcrlbing  a  jealous  hufband  : 

Neither  prefs,  coffer,  chert,  trunk,  well,  vault,  but  he 
hath  an  abftradl  for  the  remembrance  ot  fuch  places,  and 
goes  to  them  by  his  note.  Tljere  is  no  hiding  you  in  the 
houfe. 

Merry  Wives  of  IVindfor,  a£l  4.fc.  3. 

Congreve  has  an  inimitable  llroke  of  this  kind  in  his 
comedy  of  Love  for  Love  : 

Ben  Legend.  Well,  father,  and  how  do  all  at  home  ? 
how  does  brother   Dick,  and  brother  Val  } 

Sir  Sampfon.  Dick :  body  o'  me,  Dick  has  been  dead  thefe 
two  years.      I  writ  you  word  when  you  were  at  Leghorn. 

Ben.  Mefs,  that's  true  :  marry,  1  had  forgot.  Dick's 
dead,  as  you  fay.  ASl  y  J<^'  6. 

FalllafF  fpealdng  of  ancient  Piflol  : 

He's  no  fwaggerer,  hoftefs  :  a  tame  cheater  i'faith  ;  yoii 
may  flrcak  him  as  gently  as  a  nuppy-grey-hound  ;   he  wi'l 

liOt 


268  Narration  and  Defcription.         Ch.  XXI, 

not  fvvagger  v/ith  a  Barbary  hen,  if  her  feathers  turn  back 
in  any  ihew  of  refiftance. 

Second  Part,  Henry  IV.  a5i  1.  Jc.  9. 

Offian,  among  his  other  excellencies,  is  eminently 
fuccefsful  in  drawing  characters  ;  and  he  never  fails 
to  delight  his  reader  with  the  beautiful  attitudes  of 
his  heroes.     Take  the  following  inllances. 

O  Ofcar  !  bend  the  frroug  in  arm  -^  but  fpare  the  feeble 
hand.  Be  thou  a  Ilream  of  many  tides  againfl  the  foes  of 
thy  people  ;  but  like  the  gale  that  inoves  the  grafs  to  thofe 
who  aflc  thine  aid. — So  Tremor  lived  ;  fuch  Trathal  was  ; 
and  fuch  has  Fingal  been.  My  arm  was  the  fupport  of 
the  injured  ;  and  the  weak  refled  behind  the  lightning  of 
my  Heel. 

VVe  heard  the  voice  of  joy  on  the  coaft,  and  we  thought 
that  the  mighty  Cathmore  came.  Cathmore  the  friend  of 
,  Grangers  the  brother  of  red-haired  Cairbar.  But  their 
fouls  were  not  the  fame  ;  for  the  light  of  heaven  was  in  tho- 
Lofom  of  Cathmore.  His  towers  rofe  on  the  banks  of 
Atha  :  feven  paths  led  to  his  halls  :  feven  chiefs  Hood  on 
thefe  paths,  and  called  the  ftranger  to  the  feaih  But  Cath- 
more dwelt  in  the  wood  to  avoid  the  voice  of  praife. 

Dermid  and  Ofcar  Avere  one  :  they  reaped  the  battle  to- 
gether. Their  friendlhip  was  flrong  as  their  Heel  ;  and 
death  walked  between  them  to  the  iield.  They  ruih  on 
the  foe  like  two  rocks  failing  from  the  brow  ot  Aidveiu 
Tiicir  fwords  arc  (tained  vviUi  the  blood  ot  the  valiant  : 
vvarriois  faint  at  their  name.  Who  is  equal  to  Olcar  bur 
Dermid  r  who  to  Dermid  but  Ofcar  i 

Son  of  Comhai,  replied  the  chief,  the  fftength  of  Mor- 
ni's  arm  has  failed  ;  1  attempt  to  draw  the  iword  ot  my 
youth,  but  it  remains  in  its  place  :'  i  throv/  the  fprar,  but 
It  falls  Ihort  ot  the  mark  :  and  I  feel  the  weight  ot  my 
ihicld.  We  decay  like  the  grafs  of  the  mountain,  and 
our  llre.ngih  returns  no  more.  I  have  a  fon,  O  f*in,",al, 
his  foul  has  delighted  in  the  adlions  of  Moral's  youth  ;  btiv 
his  fwcid  ha;^  not  been  failed  a^ainlt  the  foe^  neithei^  lias  his. 

fame 


Ch.  XXI.         Narration  and  Defcript'wn,  269 

fame  begun.  I  come  with  him  to  battle,  to  dlre£l  his  arm. 
His  renown  will  be  a  fun  to  my  foul,  in  the  dark  hour  of 
my  departure.  O  that  the  name  ot  Morni  were  forgot 
among  the  people  !  that  the  heroes  would  only  fay,  "  Be- 
hold the  father  of  Gaul." 

Some  writers  5  through  heat  of  hiiagination,  fall  into 
contradidion  ;  fome  are  guilty  of  downright  abfurd- 
ities  J  and  fome  even  rave  like  madmeni  Againfl 
fuch  capital  errors  one  cannot  be  more  effectually 
warned  than  by  collecting  infhances  ;  and  the  firfl 
fliall  be  of  a  contradiction,  the  moil  venial  of  all. 
Virgil  fpeaking  of  Neptune, 

Interea  magno  mifceri  murmnre  pontum, 
tmiifamque  hyemem  fenfit  Neptunus,  et  fmis 
Stagiia  refufa  vadis  :  graviter  commotus,  et  alto 
Profpiciens,  Cumm^  placii/um  caput  extulit  unda. 

.'Eneidf  i.  128. 

Again  : 

When  firft  young  Maro,  in  his  boundlefs  mind, 
A  work  t'  outlait  immortal  Rome  defign'd. 

F-lfay  on  Cnticifm,  I.  1 7o. 

The  following  examples  are  of  abfurdlties. 

Alii  pulfis  e  tormento  catenis  difcerpti  feitiquejdiniidiatoi 
corporc  pui^nabant  fibi  fuperdites,  ac  peremptre  partis 
u!  tores.  Strada,  Dec.  2.  /.  2. 

II  pover  huomo,  che  non  fen'  era  accorto, 
Andava  combattendo,  ed  era  morto. 

Be  mi. 

He  fled  ;  but  flying,  left  his  life  behind. 

Iliad,  xi.  433. 

Full  through  his  neck  the  weighty  falchion  fped  : 
Along  the  pavement  roU'd  the  nniutt'rin.'z  head. 

Od\JJe)',\:i\\.'76t^. 
This 


57^  Narration  and  Defcripilori,         Ch.  XXL' 

The  laft  article  is  of  raving  like  one  mad.  Cleo- 
patra fpeaking  to  the  alpic, 

Welcome  thou  kind  deceiver, 

Thou  beft  of  thieves  ;  who,  with  an  eafy  key, 
D()(t  open  Hfe^  and  unperceiv'd  by  us, 
Ev'n  flcal  us  from  ourfelves  ■;  difcharging  fo 
Death's  dreadful  office,  better  than  himfelf  ; 
Toucliing  our  limbs  fo  gently  into  (lumber, 
That  Death  ilands  by,  deceiv'd  by  his  own  image. 
And  thinks  himfelf  blit  Sleep. 

Drydetiy  All  for  Lovcy  a£l  5. 

Reafons  that  are  common  and  known  to  every  one, 
ought  to  be  taken  for  granted  :  to  exprefs  them  is 
childifh,  and  interrupts  the  narration.  Quintus  Cur- 
tius,  relating  the  battle  of  liTus, 

Jam  in  confpe6iu,  fed  extra  teli  ja<5lnm,  utraque  acies 
erat  ;  quum  priores  Perfas  inconditum  et  trucem  fuftulere 
clamoreni.  Rcdditur  et  a  Macedonibus  major,  exercitus 
impar  numero,  fed  jugis  montium  vaftifque  faltibus  reper- 
culias  :  quippefemper  ctrcumjeBa  nemora  petraque,  quantum^ 
cunque  accepere  vccem,  miiltiplicatofotio  referunt. 

Having  difcQiTed  what  obfervations  occurred  upon 
the  thoughts  or  things  expreffed,  I  proceed  to  what 
more  peculiarly  concern  the  language  or  verbal  drefs. 
The  language  proper  for  expr effing  paiTion  being 
handled  in  a  former  chapter,  feveral  obfervations 
there  made  are  appHcable  to  the  prefent  fubjetl  ; 
particularly,  That  as  words  are  intimately  connected 
with  the  ideas  they  renrefent,  the  emotions  raifed  by 
the  found  and  by  the  fenfe  ought  to  be  concordant. 
An  elevated  fabjeift  requires  an  elevated  flyle  ;  what 
is  famihar,  ought  to  be  familiarly  exprelfed  :  a  fub- 
jed  that  is  ferious  and  important,  ought  to  be  clothed 
in  plain  nervous  language  :  a  defcription  on  the  other 
hand,  addreffed  to  the  imagination,  is  fufceptible  of 

the 


Ch.  XXI.        Narration  and  De/cHption,  27s 

the  higheft  ornaments  that  founding  words  and  figur- 
ative expreffion  can  beftow  upon  it. 

I  fhall  give  a  few  examples  of  the  foregoing  rules, 
A  poet  of  any  genius  is  not  apt  to  drefs  a  high  fub- 
je£t  in  low  words  ;  and  -yet  blemifhes  of  that  kind 
are  found  even  in  clafTical  works.  Horace,  obferving 
that  men  are  fatisfied  with  themfelves,  but  feldon\ 
with  their  condition,  introduces  Jupiter  indulging  to 
each  his  own  choice  ; 

Jam   faclam  quod  vuUis  :  eris  tu,  qui  modo  miles, 
Mercator  :   tu,  confultus  modo,  rudicus  :  hi^c  vos, 
Vos  hinc  mutatis  difctdite  partibus  :   eia, 
Qi^iid  ftatis  ?   nolint  :  atqiii  licet  efle  beatis. 
Qiiid  caufx  eft,  merito  quin  illis  Jupiter  ambas 
Iratas  buccas  inflet  ?  neque  fc  tore  pollhac 
Tam  tacilem  dicat,  votis  ut  prcebeat  aurem  ? 

Sat.  lib.  I.  fat.  I.  /.  1 6, 

Jupiter  in  wrath  puiHng  up  both  cheeks,  is  a  low  and 
even  ludicrous  expreffion,  far  from  fuitable  to  the 
gravity  and  importance  of  the  fubjed; :  every  one  mufi 
feel  the  difcordance.  The  following  couplet,  finking, 
far  below  the  fubject,  is  no  lefs  ludicrous. 

Not  one  looks  backward,  onward  ftill  he  goes, 
Yet  ne'er  looks  for"vvard  farther  than  his  nofe. 

EJfay  on  Many  ep.  iv.  223. 

Le  Rhin  tretrible  et  fremit  a  ccs  trifles  nouvelies  ; 

Le  feu  fort  a  t ravers  fes  huinides  prunelles. 

C'eft  dj;mc  trop  peu,  dit-il,  que  TEfcaut  en  deux  mo'iA 

A'm  appris  a  couler  fousde  nouvelies  loix  \ 

Et  de  tr.ille  rernparts  mon  onde  enviroiinee 

De  ces  fleuvesfans  nom  fuivrala  deftinee  ? 

Ah  !  periifcint  mes  eaux,  ou  par  d'tlluiires  coups 

Montrons  qui  doit  cedar  des  mortels  ou  de  nous. 

A  ces  mots  eljniantfa  barbe  limonneuje, 

II  pread  d'uu  vieu:;  guerrier  la  i>^ure  poudreufe. 

So  a 


•272  Narration  and  Defcription.      Ch.  XXI. 

Son  front  cicatrice  rend  Ton  air  furieux, 
Et  Taidtur  tlu  combat  etincelie  ea  fes  yeux. 

Boileauy  epitrc  4.  /.  61. 

A  god  wiping  his  dirty  beard  is  proper  for  burlefque 
poetry  only  ;  and  altogether  unfuitable  to  the  drained 
elevation  of  this  poem. 

On  the  other  hand,  10  raife  the  expreflion  above 
the  tone  of  the  fubject,  is  a  fault  than  which  none  is 
more  common.     Take  the  following  inflances  : 

Orcan  le  plus  ficie'c  a  ferver  fes  deflfeins, 

Ne  fous  le  ciel  biiilant  des  plus  noirs  Affricains. 

Baja-zctj  ail  'i^-  Jc.  8. 

Les  ombres  par  trois  fois  ont  obfcurci  les  cieux 
Depuis  que  le  fommeil  n'efl  entre  dans  vos  yeuX  ; 
Et  ie  jour  a  trois  fois  chalfe  la  nuit  obfcure 
Depuis  que  votve  corps  languit  fans  nourriture. 

Phedra,  a£l  i-fc.  3. 

AJfuerus.  Ce  inortel,  qui  montra  tant  de  zele  pour  moi, 
Vit-il  encore  ? 

Ajaph. II  voit  raflre  qui  voiis  ecalire. 

Ejiber,  a£l  l.fc.  3. 

Oui,  c'efl  Agamemnon,  c'eft  ton  roi  qui  t'  eveille  j 
Viens,  reconnois  la  voix  qui  f  rappe  Ion  oreiile, 

Iphtgen'ie- 

No  jocund  health  that  Denmark  drinks  to-day. 
But  the  great  cannon  to  the  clouds  Ihall  tell  ; 
And  tiic  King's  rowfe  the  heav'ns  ihall  bruit  again, 
Rcfpeaking  earthly  thunder. 

Hamlet y  a£l  i .  fc.  2. 


In  the  inner  room 


I  fpy  a  winkin;t!;  lamp,  that  weakly  llrikes 
The' ambient  air,  fcaice  kindling  into  lij^ht. 

Southern,  Fuie  of  Capua,  afi  3. 

In 


Ch.  XXI;         Narration  and  Defcription,  573 

In  the  funeral  orations  of  the  Bifhop  of  Meaux,  the 
following  paffages  are  raifed  far  above  the  tone  of 
the  fubjed  : 

L'Ocean  etonne  de  fe  voir  traverfe  tant  de  fois,  en  des 
appareils  ft  divers,  et  pour  des  caufes  fi  difFerentes,  i^c. 

p.  6. 

Grande  Reine,  je  fatisfais  a  vos  plus  tendres  defirs,  quand 
je  celebre  ce  monarque  ;  et  fon  cceur  qui  n'a  jamais  vecu 
que  pour  lui,  fe  eveille,  tout  poudre  qu'il  eft,  et  devient  ien- 
fible,  me  mcfousce  drap  mortuaire,  au  nom  d'un  epoux  ft 
cher.  p.  32. 

Montefquieu,  m  a  dida£tic  work,  Uefprit  des  Lolx^ 
gives  too  great  indulgence  to  imagination  :  the  tone 
of  his  language  fvi^ells  frequently  above  his  fubjedt. 
I  give  an  example  :  , 

Mr  le  Comte  de  Boulainvilliers  et  Mr  1'  Abbe  Dubos 
©nt  fait  chacun  un  fyfteme,  dont  Turn  femble  etre  une  con- 
juration contre  le  tiers-etat,  et  I'autre  une  conjuration  cen- 
tre la  noblelTe.  Lorfque  le  Soleil  donna  a  Phaeton  fon 
char  a  conduire,  il  lui  dit,  Si  vous  montez  trop  haut,  vous 
bruierez  la  demeure  celefte  ;  fi  vous  defcendez  trop  has, 
vous  reduirez  en  cendres  la  terre  :  n'allez  point  trop  a 
droite,  vous  toinberiez  dans  la  conftellation  du  ferpent  ; 
n'allez  point  trop  a  gauche,  vous  iriez  dans  celle  de  I'autel ; 
tenez-vous  entre  les  deux.  L.  -lo.  ch 


:>"• 


10. 


The  following  palTage,  intended,  one  would  imagine-, 
as  a  receipt  to  boil  water,  is  altogether  burlefque  by 
the  laboured  elevation  of  the  didion  : 

A  mafiy  caldron  of  ftiipendous  frame 
They  brought,  and  plac'd  it  o'er  the  rifing  flame  ; 
Then  heap  the  lighted  wood  ;    the  flame  divides 
Beneath  the  vafe,  and  climbs  around  the  fides  : 
In  its  wide  womb  they  pour  the  rufhing  liream  : 
The  boiling  water  bubbles  to  the  brim. 

Iliads  xviii.  405, 

Vol.  II.  S  Jn 


;*,  mt^ 


^y4  Narration  and  Dejcripilon.        Ch.  XXI» 

In  a  paflage  at  the  beginning  of  the  4th  book  of  Tel- 
emachus,  one  feels  a  fudden  bound  upward  without 
preparation,  which  accords  not  with  the  fubjeft  : 

Calypfo,  qui  avoite  ete  jufqu'  a  ce  moment  immobile  et 
tranfportee  de  plaifir  en  ecoutant  les  avantures  de  Telcma- 
que,  i'interrompit  pour  lui  taire  prendre  quelque  repos.  II 
eft  terns,  lui  dit-elle,  qui  vous  alliez  gouier  la  douceur  du 
lommeil  apres  tant  de  travaux.  Vous  n'avez  rien  a  crain- 
dre  ici  ;  tout  vous  eft  favorable.  Abandonnez  vous  done  a. 
la  joye.  Goutez  la  paix,  et  tons  les  autres  dons  des  dieux 
dont  vous  allez  etre  comble.  Demain,  quand  V  Aurore  avee 
Jes  doigts  de  rofes  entronvrira  les  partes  dories  de  I'Orient,  et 
que  le  Chevaux  du  Soleiljortans  de  Vonde  aniere  repandront  les 
jiames  du  joury  pour  chajj'er  devant  eux  tonics  les  etoiles  du  ciel^ 
nous  reprendrons,  mon  cher  Tdlemaque,  I'hiftoire  de  vos 
malheurs. 

This  obvioufly  is  copied  from  a  fimilar  paflage  in  the 
^neld,  which  ought  not  to  have  been  copied,  becaufe 
it  lies  open  to  the  fame  cenfure  5  but  the  force  of  au- 
thority is  great  : 

At  reglna  gravi  jamdudum  faucia  cura 
Vulnus  alit  venis,  et  casco  carpitur  ignl. 
Multa  viri  virtus  animo,  muliufque  recurfat 
Gentis  honos  :   hasrent  infixi  peftore  vultus, 
Verb.ique  :   nee  placidam  membris  dat  cura  quietem. 
Fo/iera  Phosbea  lujlrabat  lampade  terras^ 
Humentemque  Aurora  polo  dhnoverat  unikram  ; 
Cum  fic  unanimem  alloquitur  malefana  tororem. 

Lib.  iv.   I, 

Take  another  example  where  the  words  rife  above 
the  fubjedl  : 

Ainfi  les  peuples  y  arcoururent  bien'ot  en  foule  de  toutes 
partes  ;  le  commerce  de  cette  villa  ctoit  iemblable  au  flux 
et  au  reflux  de  la  mer.  Les  trefors  y  entroient  comme  les 
fiots  viennent  I'un  fur  I'autre.     Tout  y  etoit  apporte  et  en 

fortoit 


Ch.  XXL        iSfarratlon  and  Defcriptlon4  275 

fortolt  llbrement  ;  tout  ce  qui  y  entroit,  etoit  utile  ;  tout  ce 
qui  en  fortoit,  hiiroit  en  fortant  d'autres  richefles  en  fa  place. 
JLa  jultice  fevere  prefidoit  dans  le  port  au  milieu  de  tant  de 
nations.  La  franchife,  la  bonne  foi,  la  candeur,  fembloient 
du  haut  de  ces  fuperbs  tours  appellor  les  marchands  des 
terres  le  plus  eloignees  :  chacun  de  ces  marchandsj/i?//  ^u'il 
Vint  des  rives  orienfales  ou  le  JoUll  jort  chaque  jour  du  Jem  des 
cndes,foit  qiiilfutpart'i  de  cette  grande  mer  ou  le  Joleii  lafje  de 
Jon  coiirs  va  eteindre  Jes  feuxy  vivoit  paifible  et  en  futrcie 
dans  Salente  comme  dans  fa  patrie  ! 

TeJemaque,  l.  12, 

The  language  of  Homer  Is  fuited  to  his  fubjed, 
no  lefs  accurately  than  the  adions  and  fentiments  of 
his  heroes  are  to  their  charafters.  Virgil,  in  that 
particular,  falls  fhort  of  perfection  :  his  language  is 
flately  throughout ; ,  and  though  he  defcends  at  times 
to  the  fimpleli  branches  of  cookery,  roafting  and 
boiling  for  example,  yet  he  never  relaxes  a  moment 
from  the  high  tone.*  In  adjuding  his  language  to 
his  fubjeft,  no  writer  equals  Swift.  I  can  recolleft 
but  one  exception,  which  at  the  fame  time  is  far  from 
being  grofs  :  The  journal  of  a  modern  lady  Is  com- 
pofed  in  a  (lyle  blending  fprightlinefs  with  familiarity, 
perfeftly  fuited  to'  the  fubjedl  :  in  one  paiTage,  how- 
ever, the  poet  deviating  from  that  ftyle,  takes  a  tone 
above  his  fubje6l.  The  paffage  I  have  in  view  begins, 
/.  116.  But  let  me  novj  a  while Jur-vcy ^  ^c.  and  ends 
at/.  135. 

It  is  proper  to  be  obferved  upon  this  head,  that 
writers  of  inferior  rank  are  continually  upon  the 
ftretch  to  enliven  and  enforce  their  fubjeftby  exag- 
geration and  fuperlatives.  This  unluckily  has  au 
effeft  contrary  to  what  is  intended  ;  the  reader,  dif- 
gufted  with  language  that  fwells  above  the  fubjcct,  is 
led  by  contrail,  to  think  more  meanly  of  the  fubjedt 

than 

*  See  ^'Eueid.  li:>.  i,  iS^S, — 210, 
S2 


iy6  fhrrdtioH  arid  befcriptioH,  Ch.  XXt 

than  it  may  pofTibly  defcrve.  A  man  of  prudence, 
befide,  will  be  no  lefs  careful  to  hufband  his  Ilrengih 
in  writing  than  in  walking  :  a  writer  too  liberal  of 
fuperlatives,  exhaufts  his  whole  ilock  upon  ordinary 
incidents,  and  referves  no  fhare  to  exprefs,  with 
greater  energy,  matters  of  importance.* 

Many  "vvriters  of  that  kind  abound  fo  in  epithetSj 
as  if  poetry  confiiled  entirely  'in  high-founding  words^ 
Take  the  follo'wing  inftance. 

When  black-brow'd  Night  her  daiky  mantle  fpread. 

And  M'rapt  in  folemn  gloom  the  fable  llry  : 
When  foothing  Sleep  her  opiate  dews  had  ihedj 

And  feal'd  in  filkcn  Htimbers  ev'ry  eye  : 
My  Wakeful  thoughts  admit  iro  balmy  refl, 

Nor  the  hveet  blifs  of  foft  oblivion  Ihare  : 
But  watchful  wo  diftrad^s  my  aching  brcalt, 

My  heart  the  fubjedl;  of  corroding  care  : 
From  haunts  of  men  with  wand'ring  (teps  and  flow 
I  folitary  Ileal,  and  footh  my  penfive  wo. 

Here  every  fubftantive  Is  faithfully  attended  to  by 
fome  tumid  epithet  ;  like  young  maftcr  who  cannot 
walk  abroad  without  having  a  lac'd  livery  man  at 
his  heels.  Thus  in  reading  withr  ut  tafte,  an  em- 
phafis  is  laid  on  every  word  ;  and  in  fmging  withouf 
tafle,  every  -  note  is  grac'd.  Such  redundancy  of 
epithets,  inftead  of  pleafmg,  produce  fatiety  and  dif- 
guft. 

The  power  of  language  to  imitate  thought,  is  not 
confined  to  the  capital  circumftances  above  men- 
tioned :  it  reacheth  even  the  ilighter  modifications. 

Slow 

*  Montaif;nc,  reflfclin^  upon  tlie  then  prefent  niorles,  fibferves,  that 
there  never  was  at  any  other  titne  fo  alijefl  and  fervile  proflitution  of 
worf^s  in  the  addrrfTes  made  by  people  of  falhion  to  one  anotlier ;  the 
*hu«iihle(l  tenders  of  life  and  foul,  rr>  profefTions  under  tiiat  of  devotion 
and  adoration;  the  writer  conflainly  declaring  himfelf  a  vafTal,  nav  a 
il:ive  :  (o  that  v  hen  any  incre  fcricus  occalion  of  fricndflup  or  {jratitu^ 
jcqukcsmorc  genuine  profei'IIons,  woids  arc  vvatititig  to  expre(s  tbcra. 


Ch.  XXI,         Narrniion  and  Defcription,  277 

Slow  a6lion,  for  example,  is  imitated  by  words  pro- 
nounced flow  :  labour  or  toil,  by  words  harfli  or 
rough  in  their  found.  But  this  fubjedt  has  been  al- 
ready handled.* 

In  diaIo[^ue-writing,  the  condition  of  the  fpeaker 
js  chiefly  to  be  regarded  in  framing  the  expreffion. 
The  fentjnel  in  Hamlet^  interrogated  with  relation  to 
the  ghoft  whether  his  watch  had  been  quiet,  anfwers 
with  great  propriety  for  a  man  in  his  Itation,  "  not 
a  moufe  If irring.f" 

I  proceed  to  a  fecond  remark,  no  iefs  important 
than  the  former.  Mo  perfon  of  refledion  but  mull 
be  fenfible,  that  an  incident  rnakes  a  ftronger  im- 
preffion  on  an  eye-vv'itnefss  than  when  heard  at  fec»- 
ond  hand.  Writers  of  genius,  fenfible  that  the  eye 
is  the  bell  avenue  to  the  heart,  reprefent  every  thing 
as  paffing  in  our  fight  ;  and,  from  readers  or  hear- 
ers, transform  us  as  it  were  into  fpedators  :  a  fkil- 
ful  writer  conceals  himfelf,  and  prefents  his  perfon- 
Jlges  :  in  a  word,  every  thing  becomes  dramatic  as 
much  as  poifible.  Plutarch  de  gloria  Aihenieitfium, 
obferves,  that  Thucydides  makes  his  reader  a  fpec» 
tator,  and  infpires  him  with  the  fame  paifions  as  if  he 
v/ere  an  eye-witnefs  :  and  the  fame  obfervation  h 
applicable  to  our  countryman  Swift.  From  this 
happy  talent  arlfes  that  energy  of  ftyle  which  is  pe* 
culiar  to  him  :  he  cannot  always  avoid  narration  ; 
but  the  pencil  is  his  choice,  by  which  he  bellows 
life  and  colouring  upon  his  objeds.     Pope  is  richer 

in 

<*Ch.  iS.  fea.  3. 

t  Onecanfcarcc  avoid  fmiling  at  the  blindnefsofa  certain  critic, 
who,  with  an  air  of  felf  fuflkiency,  condemns  this  expreffion  as  low  and 
vulgar.  A  French  poet,  fays  he,  v.-ou!d  exprefs  the  fame  thou;^!)t  in 
a  more  fublimc  manner  :  "  Mais  tout  dort,'  ct  I'iirmee,  et  les  vents, 
ft  Neptune."  And  he  adds,  *•  The  Kn^lifii  poet  may  picafe  at  Lon- 
don, but  the  Freiich  every  where  elfe." 

S3. 


ayS  Narration  and  Defcrlption.         Ch.  XXI'., 

in  ornament,  but  poiTefleth  not  in  the  fame  degree 
the  talent  of  drawing  from  the  life.  A  tranflation 
of  the  fixth  fatire  of  Horace,  begun  by  the  former 
and  finiflied  by  the  latter,  affords  the  faireft  oppor- 
tunity for  a  comparifcn.  Pope  obvioufly  imitates 
the  picturefque  manner  of  his  friend  :  yet  ev- 
ery one  of  tafte  mufl  be  fenfible,  that  the  imita- 
tion, though  fine,  falls  fhort  of  the  original.  In 
other  inllances,  where  Pope  writes  in  his  own  ftyle, 
the  difference  of  manner  is  ftill  more  confpicuous. 
Abftract  or  general  terms  have  no  good  effe61;  in 
;any  compofition  for  amufement  ;  becaufe  it  is  only 
of  particular  objects  that  images  can  be  formed.* 
Shakefpear's  flyle  in  that  refpeft  is  excellent  :  every 
article  in  his  defcriptions  is  particular,  as  in  nature  ; 
and  if  accidentally  a  vague  expreffion  flip  in,  the 
hlemifji  is  difcernible  by  the  bluntnefs  of  its  impref- 
fion.  Take  the  following  example  :  Falftaff,  excuf- 
ing  himfelf  for  running  away  at  a  robbery,  fays. 

By  the  Lord,  I  knew  ye  as  well  as  he  .that  inaJe  ye. 
Why,  hear  ye,  my  mafters  ;  was  it  for  me  to  kill  the  heir- 
apparent  ;  ihouid  I  turn  upon  the  true  prince  ?  Why,  thou 
knowcit,  I  am  as  valiant  as  Hercules  ;  but  beware  initincl, 
the  lion  will  not  touch  the  true  prince  :  injiincl  is  a  great 
■inatier.  I  was  a  coward  on  inlUu(5l  :  1  ihall  think  the 
better  of  myff^lf,  and  thee,  during  my  lite  ;  I  tor  a  violent 
lion,  and  thou  for  a  true  prince.  But,  by  the  Lord,  lads,  I 
am  glad  you  have  the  money.  Holtefs,  clap  too  the  doors. 
Watch  to-night,  pray  to-morrow.  Gallants,  lads,  boys,  hearts 
oi  gold,  all  the  titles  of  good  iellowihip  come  to  you  \ 
What,  Ihall  we  be  merry  r  fiiall  we  have  a  play  (xtanpore  ^ 
Fit Jl part,  Hii.ry  IV.  act  2.  Jc.  9. 

The  fcntence  I  obje£l  to  is,  inJlirM  is  a  great  matter^ 
which  makes  but  a  poor  figure,  compared  with   the 
li\'elincfs  of  the  refl  of  the  incech.   it  v.  as  one  of  Ho- 
mer'. 


'Oh.  XXI.        Narration  and  Defcripthn.  279 

mer's  advantages,  that  he  wrote  before  general  terms 
were  multiplied:  the  fuperior  genius  of  Shakefpear 
difplays  itfelf  in  avoiding  them  after  they  were  multi- 
plied. Addifon  defcribes  the  family  of  Sir  Roger 
de  Coverley  in  the  following  words : 

You  would  take  his  valet  de  chambre  for  his  brother,  his 
butler  is  grey-headed,  his  groom  is  one  ot  the  graveft  men 
that  I  have  everfeen,  and  his  coachman  has  the  looks  of  a 
privy  councellor. 

Spe Bator y  Nc.  106. 

The  defcription  of  the  groom  is  lefs  lively  than  of 
the  others  ;  plainly  becaufe  the  expreffion  being 
vague  and  general,  tends  not  to  form  any  image. 
"  Dives  opumvariarum,*'*  is  an  expreffion  fiiil  more 
yague  j  and  fo  are  the  following  ; 

. Maecenas,  niearum 


Grande  decus,  columenque  rerum. 

Ho  rat.  Curm.  lib.  2.  ode  in. 

. et  fide  Xe'ja 


Dices  luboranies  in  una 
Penelopen,  vitreamquc  Circen. 

Ibid.  lib.  I.  ods  17. 

Ridiculum  acri 


Foitius  et  mcUus  maj^nas  plerumtjue^^^^rrt^/  res. 

Hjrut.  Stiiir.  lib.  i.fut.  10. 

In  the  .fine  arts  it  is  a  rule,  to  put  the  capital  ob- 
jects in  the  Itrongefl  point  of  view  ;  and  even  to  pre- 
fent  them  oftener  than  once,  where  it  can  be  done.  In 
hiftory-painting,  the  principal  figure  is  placed  in  the 
front,  and  in  the  befl  Hghr :  an  eqaeiirian  ftatue  is 
placed  in  a   centre  of  liicets,   that  it  may  be  feen 

from 

*  Georg.  2.  468. 
S4 


iSo  Narration  and  Defcription*         Ch.  XXI. 

from  many  places  at  once.      In  no  compofition  is 
there  greater  opportunity  tor  this  rule  than  in  writing : 

Sequitur  pulcherrimus  Aftur, 

Ailur  equo  fidens  et  verlicoloribus  armis. 

jEnsidf  X.  1 80, 


-Full  many  a  lady 


I've  ey'd  with  bed  regard,  and  many  a  time; 
Th'  harmony  ot  their  tongues  hath  into  bondage 
Brought  my  too  diliget^t  ear  ;  for  f-veral  virtues 
Have  1  lik'd  feveral  women,  never  any 
"With  (o  full  foul,  butfome  dete6l  in  her 
Did  quarrel  with  the  rioblelt  grace  (lie  ow'd, 
And  put  it  to  thf  toil.     But  you,  O  you, 
So  perfcdl,  and  fo  peerlefs,  are  created 
Of  every  creature's  belt. 

Crhndo. Whate'er  you  are 

Thai  in  this  defart  inacceilible. 

Under  the  Ihade  ot  melancholy  boughs, _ 

Lofe  and  negledl  the  creeping  hours  of  time  \ 

If  ever  you  have  look'd  on  better  days  ; 

If  ever  been  where  bells  have  knoU'd  to  church  \ 

If  ever  fat  at  any  good  man's  teaii  ; 

If  ever  from  your  eye-lids  wip'd  a  tear, 

And  know  what  'tis  to  pity  and  be  pity'd  ; 

Let  gentlenefs  my  Itrong  enforcement  be. 

In  the  which  hope  I  blulh  and  hide  my  fword. 

Duke  Jen.  True  is  it  that  we  have  feen  better  days  '^ 
And  have  with  holy  bell  been  knoU'd  to  church  \ 
And  fat  at  good  niens  fealts  \  and  wip'd  our  eyes 
Of  drops  that  facred  pity  had  engender'd  : 
And   therefore  lit  you  down  in  gentlenefs, 
And  take  upon  command  what  help  we  have; 
That  to  your  wanting  may  be  niiniltfcd. 

Ai  you  like  it. 

With  thee  converfing  I  forget  all  time  ; 
AH  feafons  and  ih^iir  change,  all  plcaft^  alike. 
Sweet  is  the  breath  of  morn,  her  rifing  fwcet, 

With 


Ci|,  XXI;         "Narration  and  Defcriptwiu  2  31 

With  charm  of  earlie!^  birds  ;  pleafant  tl'.e  fun 
When  firfl;  on  this  (Jelighxhil  land  he  fpreads 
His  orient  beams,  on  herbs,  trt-e,  truit,  and  flow'r, 
Glilt'ring  with  dew  \  fragrant  the  tertile  earth  ■ 
After  fok  Ihovvers  ;  and  fweet  the  coming  on 
Q\  grateful  evening  mild,   the  fjlent  night 
With  this  her  folemn  bird,  and  this  fair  moon. 
And  thefe  the  gems  of  heav'n,  her  ftarry  train. 
But  neither  breath  of  morn,  when  ihe  afcends 
With  charm  of  earlielt  birds,   nor  rifing  fun 
On  this  delightful  land,  nor  herb,  fruit,  fiow'r, 
Gliftering  with  dew,  nor  fragrance  after  Ihovvers, 
Kor  grateful  evening  mjld,  nor  iilent  night, 
With  this  her  folemn  bird,  nor  walk  by  moon 
Or  glittering  Itar  light,  without  thee  is  fweet. 

Paradije  Lojly   b.  4.  /.  634. 

What  mean  ye,  that  ye  ufe  this  proverb,  Tlie  fathers 
have  eaten  four  grapes,  and  the  children's  teeth  are  fet  on 
edge  ?  As  I  live,  faith  the  Lord  God,  ye  Ihall  not  have 
occafion  to  ufe  this  proverb  in  Ifrael,  If  a  inan  keep  my 
judgments  tq  deal  truly,  he  is  jult,  he  Ihall  furely  live. 
But  if  he  l)e  a  robber,  a  fhedder  of  biood  ;  it  he  have 
eaten  upon  the  mountains,  and  defiled  his  neighbour's  wife  ^ 
if  he  have  oppreflfed  the  poor  and  needy,  have  fpoiled  by 
violence,  haye  not  reitored  the  pledge,  have  lift  up  his  eyes 
to  idols,  have  given  forth  upon  ufury,  and  have  taken  in- 
creafe  :  ihall  he  live  ?  he  ihall  not  live  :  he  ihall  furely 
die  :  and  his  blood  fliall  be  upon  him.  Now,  lo,  if  he  be- 
get a  fon,  that  feeth  all  his  father's  fins,  and  confidereth, 
and  docth  not  fuch  like  ;  that  hath  not  eaten  upon  the 
mountains,  hath  not  lift  up  his  eyes  to  idols,  nor  defiled 
his  neighbour's  wife,  hath  not  oppreiTed  any,  nor  with- 
held the  p!e4ge,  neither  hath  fpoiled  by  violence,  but  hath 
given  his  bread  to  the  hungry,  and  covered  the  naked  with 
a  garment  ;  that  hath  not  received  ufury  nor  increale,  that 
hath  executed  my  judgments,  and  walked  in  my  Itatutes  ; 
he  ihall  not  die  for  the  iniquity  of  his  father  ;  he  Lhall  furely 
live.  The  foul  that  ilnncth,  it  fliall  die  \  the  (on  Ihuii  not 
bear  the  iniquity  of  ihe  father,  neitlicr  iliall  the  father  bear 
the  iniquity  of  the  fon  ;  the  righteoufnefs  of  the  righteous 
ihall  be  upon  him,  and  the  v/ickeduefs of  the  wicked  Ihail 

lp« 


sSift  Narration  and  Defcription,      Ch.  XXTa 

be  upon  him.  Have  I  any  pleafure  that  the  wicked  fhould 
die,  faith  the  Lord  GoJ  ;  and  not  that  he  fliould  return 
from  his  ways  and  live  ? 

Ezekieiy  xviii. 

The  repetitions  in  Homer,  which  are  frequent,  have 
been  the  occalion  of  much  criticifm.  Suppofe  we 
were  at  a  lofs  about  the  reafon,  might  not  tafte 
be  fufficient  to  juflify  them  ?  At  the  fame  time,  we 
are  at  no  lofs  about  the  reafon  :  they  evidently  make 
the  narration  dramatic,  and  have  an  air  of  truth,  by 
making  things  appear  as  pafling  in  our  fight.  But 
fuch  repetitions  are  unpardonable  in  a  didaclic  poem. 
In  one  of  Hefiod's  poems  of  that  kind,  a  long  paf- 
fage  occurs  twice  in  the  fame  chapter. 

A  concife  comprehenfive  flyle  is  a  great  ornamejit 
m  narration  ;  and  a  fuperfluity  of  unnecejGTary  words, 
no  lefs  than  of  circumfliances,  a  great  nuifance.  A 
judicious  feledlion  of  the  flriking  circumilances 
clothed  in  a  nervous  %le,  is  dehghtful.  In  this 
ftyle,  Tacitus  excels  all  writers,  ancient  and  mod- 
ern. Indances  are  numberlefs  :  take  the  following 
fpecimen. 

Crebra  hinc  praelia,  et  faepius  in  modum  latrocinli  :  per 
faltus,  per  paludes  ;  lit  ciiiqne  fors  aut  virtus  :  temere, 
provifo,  ob  iram,  ob  prasdam,  julfa,  et  aliquando  ignaris 
ducibus.  Anna!,  lib.  12.  §  39. 

After  Tacitus,  Oflian  in  that  refped  juftly  merits 
the  place  of  diftindion.  One  cannot  go  wrong  for 
examples  in  any  part  of  the  book  ;  and  at  the  firfl 
opening  the  following  inftance  meets  the  eye  : 

Nathos  clothed  his  limbs  in  Ihining  (letl.  The  ftride 
of  the  chief  is  lovely:  the  joy  of  his  eye  terrible.  The 
wind  rulUes  in  his  hair.  Darthiila  is  lilent  at.  his  fide: 
her  look  is  hxed  on  the  chief.  Striving  to  hide  the  riling 
fieb,  tv.'O  tears  iVcU  in  hur  eyes. 

I  add 


Ci^.  XXI.         Narration  and  Defcription.  $83 

I  add  one  other  inftance,  which,  befide  the  prop- 
erty under  confideration,  raifes  delicately  our  molt 
Render  fympathy. 

Son  of  Fingal  !  dofl:  thou  not  behold  the  darknefs  of 
Crothar's  hall  of  fhells  ?  Pvly  foul  was  not  dark  at  the  feaft, 
>vhen  my  people  lived,  i  rejoiced  in  the  prefence  of 
ftrangers,  when  ray  fon  fhone  in  the  hall.  But,  Oflian,  he 
is  a  beam  that  is  departed,  and  left  no  llreak  ot  light  be- 
hind.    He  is  fallen,  fon  of  l^ing:^],    in  the  battles   of  his 

father. Rothmar,  the  chief  of  gralfy    Tiomlo, 

heard  that  my  eyes  had  failed  ;  he  heard  that  my  arras 
were  fixed  in  the  hail,  and  the  pride  of  his  foul  arofe.  Hti 
came  towards  Croma  :  my  peoole  fell  before  him.  I  took 
my  arms  in  the  hall,  but  v*'hat  could  figlulefs  Ciothar  do  ? 
My  fteps  were  unequal  ;  my  grief  was  great.  I  wilhed 
for  the  days  that  were  paft  :  days  !  wherein  I  fought,  and 
won  in  the  field  of  blood.  My  fon  returned  from  tlje 
chace  ;  the  fair-haired  Fovar-gormo.  He  bad  not  lilted  his 
fword  in  battle,  for  Ivis  arm  was  young.  But  the  foul  of 
tjie  youth  was  great  j  the  fire  of  valour  burnt  in  his  eyt-. 
He  faw  the  difordered  itcps  ot  his  fatlier,  and  his  figli  arole. 
King  ot  Croma,  he  faid,  is  it  becaufe  thou  halt  no  fon  ? 
is  it  for  the  weaknefs  of  Fovar-gormo's  arm  that  thy  fighs 
arife  :  1  begin,  my  tather,  to  feel  the  llrenRih  of  my  arm  ; 
I  have  drawn  the  fword  of  my  youth,  and  I  have  bent  llie 
bow.  Let  me  ineet  this  Rothinar,  with  the  youths  oL' 
Croma  :  let  me  meet  him,  O  my  father,  for  I  feel  my 
burning  foul. 

And  thou  ihalt  meet  him,  I  faid,  fon  of  the  fightlcfs 
Croihar  !  but  let  others  advance  betore  thee,  that  1  may 
hear  the  tiead  of  thy  feet  at  thy  reui'rn  \  for  my  eyes  be- 
hold thee  not,  fair-haired  Fovar-gormo  ! He  went  ; 

he  met  the  foe  ;  he  fell.*  The  foe  advances  towards  Cro- 
ma. He  who  Hew  my  fon  is  near,  with  all  his  pointed 
fpears. 

If  a  coDcife  or  nervous  flylebe  a  beauty,  tautology 
niuii:  be  a  blemifii  ;  and  yet  writers,  fettered  by  verfe, 
are  not  fuiliciently  careful  to  avoid'  this  llovenly 
practice  :  they  may  be  piiied,  but  they  cannot  be 
juftified.  Take  for  a  fpecimen  the  ix^Uowing  inftances, 

from 


284  Narration  and  De/cription,         Ch.  XXI. 

from   the  bed   poet,   for   verfification  at  leafl,  that 
England  has  to  boaft  of. 

High  on  his  helm  celeflial  light'nings  play, 
His  beamy  ilueld  emits  a  living  ray, 
Th'  unvveary'J  blaze  inceffant'ilreams  fiipplies. 
Like  the  red  liar  that  fires  th'autumnal  Ikies. 

Iliad t  V.  5. 

Strength  and  omnipotence  inveft  thy  throne. 

Iliady  viii.  5y6, 

So  filent  fountains,  from  a  rock's  tall  head. 
In  fable  {^^eams  foft  trickling  waters  Ihed. 

liiiidy  ix.    19. 

His  clanging  armour  rung, 

Iliady  xii.  94, 

J'ear  on  their  cheek,  and  horror  in  their  eye. 

litudy     XV.    4, 

The  blaze  of  armour  flafh'd  againfl:  the  day. 

Iliady  xvii.  736. 

As  when  the  piercing  blaRs  of  Boreas  blow. 

Iliad,  xix.  380. 

And  like  the  rnooHj  the  broad  refulgent  Ihield 
Blaz'd  with  long  rays,  and  gleam'd  athwart  tlie  field, 

Iliad,  xix.  402. 

No — co'vild  our  fwittnefs  o'er  the  winds  prevail. 

Or  beat  the  pinions  of  the  wcllcra gale, 

All  were  in  vain —  Iliady  xix.  460. 

'yiic  humid  fweat  from  ev'ry  pcrc  defcends. 

Iliad,  xxiii.  829. 

Redundant 


Ch.  XXI.         Narration  mid  DcfcnpUo72,  2S5 

Redundant  epithets,  fuch  as  humid  in  the  laft  cita- 
tion, are  by  Quintilian  dilallowed  to  orators  ;  but 
indulged  to  poets,*  becaufe  his  favourite  poets,  in  a 
few  inftances,  are  reduced  to  fuch  epithets  for  the 
fake  of  verfification  ;  for  inftance,  Praia  canis  alhi- 
cant  pruinis  of  Horace,  and  liquidos  fontes  of  Virgil. 
As  an  apology  for  fuch  carelefs  exprefficns,  it  may 
well  fuffice,  that  Pope,  in  fubmitting  to  be  a  tranflator, 
a.ds  below  his  genius.  In  a  tranllarion,  it  is  hard  to 
require  the  farhe  fpirit  or  accuracy,  that  is  cheerfully 
beitowed  on  an  original  work.  And  to  fupport  the 
reputation  of  that  author,  I  fhall  give  fome  inftances 
from  Virgil  and  Horace,  more  faulty  by  redundancy 
than  any  of  thofe  above  mentioned  : 

Ssepe  etiam  immenfiim  coelo  venit  agmen  aquarum, 
Et  foedam  glomerant  tempeftatem  imbribns  alris 
Colleotse  ex  alto  nubes  :   ri:it  ardiuis  ether, 
Et  pluvia  ingenti  fata  laeta,  boumque  labores 
Diluit. 

Gcorg.  lib.  \.  3-2. 

Podqiiani  altum  tentiefe  rates,  nee  jam  amplius  nils; 
Apparent  terras  ;  ccelum  iindique  et  undique  pontus  r 
Xum  mihi  caenilcus  fiipra  caput  aftitit  imber, 
No£lem  hyememque  ferens  :  et  inhorrnit  unda  tenebrls. 

/Eiie'id,  lib.  in.  192. 

HInc  tibi  copiai 


Manabit  ad  plenum  benigno 
Ruris  honorum  opidenta  cornii. 

Horat.  Carm.  Jib.  i.  ode  17. 

VIdere  fefTos  vomerem  inverfum  boves 
Collo  traiientes  ianguido. 

Herat.  cpQcl.  ii.  63- 

Here 

*  L.  8.  cap.  6.  fea.  2. 


2^6  Narrallon  and  Defenption,         Ch/XXL 

Here  I  can  luckily  apply  Horace's  rule  agalnfl  him- 
feif  :       • 

Eft  brevitate  opus,  nt  currat  fententia,  neii  fe 
Impediat  verbis  lafl'as  onerantibus  aures. 

Satir.  lib.  l-  Jut.  X.  9. 

1  clofe  this  chapter  with  a  curious  Inquiry.  An 
objeft,  however  ugly  to  the  fight,  is  far  from  being 
fo  when  reprefenteJ  by  colours  or  by  words.  What 
is  the  cauf^  of  this  difference  ?  With  refpe(5l  to  paint- 
ing, the  caufe  is  obvious  :  a  good  picture,  whatever 
the  fubjeft  be,  is  agreeable  by  the  pleafure  we  take 
in  imitation  ;  and  this  pleafure  overbalancing  the  dif- 
agreeablenefs  of  the  fubjecl,  makes  the  picture  upon 
the  whole  agreeable.  With  refpecl  to  the  defcrip- 
tion  of  an  ugly  objeft,  the  caufe  follows.  To  con- 
nect individuals  in  the  focial  (late,  no  particular  con- 
tributes more  than  language,  by  the  power  it  poffeifes 
of  an  expeditious  communication  of  thought,  and  a 
lively  reprefentation  of  tranfaftions.  But  nature  hath 
not  been  fatisfied  to  recommend  language  by  its  utility 
merely  :  independent  of  utility,  it  is  made  fufceptl- 
ble  of  many  beauties,  which  are  directly  felt,  without 
anv  Intervening  refleftion.*  And  this  unfolds  the 
myftery  ;  for  the  pleafure  of  language  is  fo  great,  as 
in  a  lively  defcription  to  overbalance  the  difagreeable- 
nefs  of  the  image  raifed  by  It.f  This,  however,  is  no 
encourao-ement  to  cboofe  a  difag-reeable  fubie£t  ;  for 
the  pleafure  is  incomparably  greater  where  the  fub- 
jeft"  and  the  defcription  are  both  of  them  agreeable. 

The  following  defcription  is  upon  the  whole  agree- 
able, though  the  fubjeft  defcribed  is  in  itfelf  difmal  : 

Nine 
*  See  cliap.  iS.  f  See  chap,  2.  part  4. 


€h.  XX!.         Narration  and  Defcripiion,  ^Zf 

Nine  times  the  fpace  that  meafures  day  and  night 

To  mortal  men,  he  with  his  horrid  crew 

Lay  vanquifh'd,  rolling  in  the  fiery  gulf, 

Confounded  though  immortal  !  but  his  doom 

Referv'd  him  to  more  wrath  \  for  now  the  thought 

Both  of  loft  happinefs  and  lafting  pain 

Torments  him  ;   round  he  throws  his  baleful  eyes 

That  witnefs'd  huge  affliilion  and  difmay, 

Mix'd  with  obdurate  pride  and  ftedfad  hate  ; 

At  once  as  far  as  angels  ken  he  views 

The  difmal  fituation  wafte  and  wild  : 

A  dungeon  horrible,  on  all  fides  round 

As  one  great  furnace  flam'd  ;  yet  from  thofe  flames 

No  light,  but  rather  darknefs  vifible 

Serv'd  only  to  difcover  fights  of  wo. 

Regions  of  forrow,  doletul  lliades,  where  peace 

And  reft  can  never  dwell,  hope  never  comes 

That  comes  to  all  ;  but  torture  without  end 

Still  urges,  and  a  fiery  deluge,  fed 

Wi-th  ever  burning  fulphur  unconfum'd  ! 

Such  place  eternal  juflice  had  prepar'd 

For  thofe  rebellious. 

Paradifi  Lcfiy  b.  i.  /.  50^ 

An  unmanly  depreflion  of  fplrlts  in  time  of  danger 
is  not  an  agreeable  fight  ;  and  yet  a  fine  defcription 
or  reprefentation  of  it  will  be  relifhed  : 

K.  Richard.     What   muft  the    King  do  now  ?  muf^ 
he  fubmit  ? 
The  King  fhall  do  it  :  muft  he  be  depos'd  ? 
The  King  fliall  be  contented  :  muft  he  lofe 
The  name  of  King  ?  o'  God's  name,  let  it  go  ; 
I'll  give  my  jewels  for  a  fet  of  beads  ; 
My  gorgeous  palace  for  a  hermitage  ; 
My  gay  apparel,  for  an  almfman's  gown  ; 
My  figur'd  g(jblets,  for  a  dilh  of  wood  ; 
My  fceptre,  for  a  palmer's  walking  ftatf  ; 
My  fubjcdls,  for  a  pair  of  carved  faints  j 
And  my  large  kingdom  for  a  little  grave  ; 

A  little^  little  grave  ; an  obfcure  grave. 

Or, 


^8S  Narratlcn  and  Defcription,         Ch,  XXI, 

Or,  I'll  be  bnry'd  In  the  Kiiuij's  high-wa)'  ; 
Sonie  way  of  common  tread,  where  fiibjc6l's  feet 
Msy  hourly  tr.Tmpie  on  their  fovereign's  head  ; 
For  on  my  heart  they  tread  now  whilft  I  live  ; 
And  bury'd  once,  why  not  upon  my  head  ? 

Richard  II.  a£i  yjc.  6. 

bhje£ls  that  ftrike  teiTor  in  a  fpeclator,  have  in 
poetry  and  painting  a  fine  efFedl.  The  picture  by 
raifmg  a  flight  emotion  of  terror,  agitates  the  mind  ; 
and  in  that  condition  every  beauty  makes  a  deep  im- 
preflion.  May  not  contrail  heighten  the  pleafure, 
by  oppofing  our  prefent  fecurity  to  the  danger  of  en- 
countering the  objeft  reprefented  ? 

The  other  (hape, 


If  Oiape  it  might  be  call'd,  that  fhape  had  tiiane 
Diftinguilhable  in  member,  joint,  or  limb  ; 
Or  fubitance  might  be  call'd  that  (hadow  feem'd^ 
For  each  feem'd  either  \  black  it  (tood  as  night. 
Fierce  as  ten  fiii-iesj  terrible  as  hellj 
And  Ihook  a  dreadful  dart. 

Paradtfe  Loflj  hook  2.  I.  666. 

Now  florming  fury  rofe, 


And  clamour  fuch  as  heard  in  heaven  till  now 
Was  never  :   arms  on  armour  claflting  bray'd 
Horrible  dilcord,  and  the  madding  wheels 
Of  brazen  chariots  rag'd  ;  dire  was  the  noife 
Of  confii6l  :   overhead  the  difmal  hifs 
Of  fiery  darts  in  flaming  volleys  flew, 
And  Hying  vaulted  either  huCx.  with  fire. 
S")  under  iicry  cope  together  rulh'd 
J3oth  battles  main,  with  ruinous  ailault 
And  inextinguilhable  rage  :  all  heaven 
Pvcfoundcd  ;  and  had  earth  been  then,  all  earth 
Had  to  her  centre  fnook. 

Paradlje  Lojl^  hook  6.  /.  207. 

Choft. But  that  I  am  forbid 

To  tell  the  fecrets  of  my  prifon-houfe, 

I  could 


Cfe.  XXI:         Narration  and  Befcripiioiu  i'^'^ 

I  could  a  tale  unfold,  whofe  lighteft  word 

Would  harrow  up  thy  foul,  freeze  thy  young  blood, 

Make  ihy  two  eyes,  like  ftars,  ftart  from  their  fpheres. 

Thy  knotty  and  conibined  locks  to  part, 

And  each  particular  hair  to  ftand  on  end, 

Like  quills  upon  the  frettiil  porcupine  ; 

But  this  eternal  blazon  mud  not  be 

To  cars  of  flelh  and  blood, 

Hamlet y  a'5i  i.fc.  8". 

Gratlano.  Poor  Derdemoni !  I'm  glad  thy  father's  dead  ; 
Thy  match  was  mortal  to  him  ;  and  pure  grief 
Shore  his  old  thread  in  twain.      Did  he  live  now. 
This  fight  would  make  him  do  a  defperate  turn  : 
Yea,  curfe  his  better  angel  from  his  ilde, 
And  fall  td  reprobation. 

Oihello,  a£l  ^.fc.  if. 

Objects  "of  horror  mufl  be  excepted  from  the  fore- 
going theory  ;  for  no  defcription,  however  lively,  is 
fufficient  to  overbalance  the  difgufl  raifed  even  by 
the  idea  of  fuch  objects.  Every  thing  horrible  ought 
therefore  to  be  avoided  in  a  defcription.  Nor  is 
this  a  fevere  law  :  the  poet  will  avoid  flich  fcertes 
for  his  own  fake,  as  wel!  as  for  that  of  his  reader  ; 
and  to  vary  his  defcriptions,  nature  affords  plenty  of 
objefts  that  difgufl  us  in  fome  degree  without  raifmg 
Iiorror.  i  am  obliged  therefore  to  condemn  the 
picture  of  Sin  in  the  fecond  book  of  Paradife  Loji^ 
though  a  mafterly  performance  :  the  original  would 
be  a  horrid  fpedVacle  ;  and  the  horror  is  not  much 
ioftened  in  the  copy  ; 

Pen  five  here  1  fat 


Alone  ;  but  long  1  fat  not,  till  my  v/ombj 
Pregnant  by  thee,  and  now  excelTive  grown, 
Prodigious  motion  felt  and  rueful  throes. 
At  lad  this  odious  offspring  whom  thou  feefl, 
Thine  own'bcgoiten,  breaking  violent  way, 

Vol.  II.  T 


Toro 


290  Narration  and  Defcrlpiloif.        Ch.  XXIi 

Tore  through  my  intrails,  that  with  fear  and  pain 

Diftorted,  all  my  nether  fhape  thus  grew 

Transform'd  ;  but  he  my  inbred  enemy 

Forth  iH'u'd,  brandifhing  his  fatal  dart, 

Made  to  deflroy  :   I  fled,  and  cry'd  out  Death  ; 

Hell  trembl'd  at  the  hideous  name,  and  figh'd 

From  all  her  caves,  and  back  refoundcd  Death. 

I  fled  ;  but  he  purfu'd,  (though  more,  it  feems, 

Inflam'd  with  lull  than  rage),  and  fwifter  far. 

Me  overtook,  his  mother  all  difmay'd, 

And  in  embraces  forcible  and  foul 

Ingendering  with  me,  of  that  rape  begot 

Thefe  yelling  monfters  that  with  ceafelefs  cry 

Surround  me,  as  thou  faw'ft,  hourly  conceiv'd 

And  hourly  born,  with  forrow  infinite 

To  me  ;  for  when  they  lilt,  into  the  womb 

That  bred  them  they  return,  and  howl  and  gnav^r 

My  bowels,  their  repalt  ;  then  burfting  forth, 

Afrefh  with  confcious  terrors  vex  me  round, 

That  reft  or  intermillion  none  I  find. 

Before  mine  eyes  in  oppofition  fits 

Grim  Death,  my  fon  and  foe,  who  fcts  them  on," 

And  me  his  parent  v/ould  full  foon  devour 

For  want  of  other  prey,  but  that  he  knovrs, 

His  end  with  mine  involved  ;  and  knows  that  I 

Should  prove  a  bitter  morfel  and  his  bane, 

Whenever  that  (hall  be.  Book  2.  /.  777. 

lago's  character  In  the  tragedy  of  Othello^  is  infuffera* 
biy  monftrous  and  Satanical  :  not  even  Shakefpear's 
mafterly  hand  can  make  the  picture  agreeable. 

Though  the  objects  introduced  in  the  following 
fcenes  are  not  altogether  fo  horrible  as  Sin  is  in 
Milton's  defcription  ;  yet  with  every  perfon  of  del- 
icacy, difgufl  will  be  the  prevailing  emotion  : 

-Strophades  Graio  fi;ant  nomine  dicl^ 


Iiifulffi  lonio  in  magno  :  quas  dira  CeLriio, 
Hcirpyiaeque  colunt  alia;  :  Phineia  portquam 
Claufa  domusp  menfafque  nietu  liquere  priores. 

Triftiu? 


Ch.  XXL         Narration  and  Defcnptm,  is 91 

Triftius  baud  illis  monftrum,  nee  fxvior  ulla 
Pedis  et  ira  Deum  Stygiis  fefe  extulit  undis. 
Virglneivolucrum  vultus,  foedifiima  ventris 
Proluvies,  uncseqiie  manusj  et  pallida  Temper 
Ora  fame. 

Hue  ubi  delati  portus  Intravlmus  :  ecce 
Lncta  bourn  paffim  carapis  armenta  videmus, 
Caprigenumqiie  pecus,  nullo  cuttode,  per  herbas. 
Irruimus  terro,  et  Divos  ipfumqae  vocr.mus 
In  prsedam  partemque  Jovem  :  tunc  I'utore  curvo 
Extruimufque  toros,  dapibulque  epulamur  Gpimis. 
At  fubitai  horriftco  lapfu  de  montibus  adfunt 
Harpyia; :  et  magnls  quatiunt  clangoribus  alas  : 
Diripiuntquc  dapes,  contaftuque  omnia  foedant 
Irrimundo  :  turn  vox  tetrum  dira  inter  odor  em. 

JEneidy  lib.  iii.  210. 

Sum  patria  ex  Ithacaj  comes  in  felicis  Ulyffei, 
Nomen  Achemcnides :  Trojam,  genitore  Adamafto 
Paupere  (raanfiiretque  utinam  fortuiia  !)  prote£lus. 
Hie  me,  dum  trepidi  crudclia  llmina  linquunt, 
Immemores  focii  vafto  Cyclopis  in  antro 
Deferuere.     Domus  fanie  dapibufque  cruentis^ 
Intus  opaca,  ingens  :   ipfe  aniuus,  altaque  puilat 
Sidera  :  (Dii,  talem  terris  avcrtite  peliemj 
Nee  vifu  tacilis,  wto.  diclu  affabilis  ulli. 
Vifceribus  miferorum,  et  fanguine  vefcitiir  atro. 
Vidi  egomet,  ■  duo  de  numero  cum  corpora  noltro^ 
Prenfa  manu  magna,  medio  refupinus  in  antro, 
Frangeret  ad  faxum,  fanleque  afperfa  natarent 
Limina  :  vidi,  atro  cum  m.embra  fluentl:i  tabo 
Mandereti  et  tepidi  trcmuerent  Tub  deniibus  artus* 
Hand  inipune  quidem  ;  nee  talia  pallus  Ulylles, 
Oblitufve  fui  elt  Iihacus  difcriminc  tauto. 
Nam  fimul  expletus  dapibus,  vinoque  fepultus 
Ccrvicem  inflexam,  pofuit,  jacuitquc  per  antrum 
Imtnenfus,  faniem  eiudlans,  ac  frufla  crueuto 
Per  roamiim  commixta  mero  ;  nos,  magna  precati 
Numina,  fortitiquc  vices,  una  undique  circum 
Fundimur,  ettelo  lumen  terebramus  acuto 
Ingens,  quod  torva  Iblum  fub  fronte  late  bat. 

Mne'ul,  ///^.  iii.  613. 

Ts  CHAP. 


C  H  A  P.     XXIL 

Epic  a?id  Dramatic  Compofitlon, 

JL  RAGEDY  differs  not  from  the  epic  iri 
fubftance  :  in  both  the  fame  ends  are  purfued,  name- 
ly, initruclion  and  amufement  ;  and  in  both  the  fame 
mean  is  employed,  namely,  imitation  of  human  ac- ' 
tions.  They  differ  only  in  the  manner  of  imitating  : 
epic  poetry  employs  tiarration  ;  tragedy  repr-efents 
Its  fa£ls  as  pailing  in  our  fight :  in  the  former,  the 
poet  introduces  himfelf  as  an  hiftorian  ;  in  the  lat- 
ter, he  prefents  his  aftors,  and  never  himfelf.* 

This  difference  regarding  form  only,  may  be 
thought  flight  :  but  the  effects  it  occafions,  are  by 
no  means  fo  ;  for  what  we  fee  makes  a  deeper  im- 
preffion  than  what  we  learn  froni  others.     A  narra- 

tive 

*  The  dialogue  in  a  dramatic  compofitlon  diftinguifiies  it  fo  clearly 
from  other  compofitions,  that  no  writer  hastliouglit  it  ncccffary  to  feafck 
for  any  o'hcr  dillinguifliing  mark.  But  much  ufclefs  labour  has  been 
be!!cwed,  to  diflinguifli  an  epic  j^oem  bv  fume  pecnuar  mark.  Boflil 
defire;,  it  to  be,  "  A  compolitlon  in  verfe,  intended  to  form  the  man- 
ners bv  infttufticns  difguired  under  the  alieg;ories  of  an  important  ac- 
tion ;"  which  excludes  every  epic  poem  founded  upon  real  faBs,  and 
perhaps  includes  feveral  of  ^fop's  fables.  Voltaire  reckons  verfe  fo 
effential,  as  for  Urat  fmsile  reaTon  to  exclude  the  adventures  of  Telema- 
chus.  See  his  EJfay  upon  Epic  Poetry.  Others,  afFe£led  with  fubllatice 
more  tlian  with  form,  hcfitate  not  to  pronounc  that  poem  to  be  epic- 
It  isnut  a  little  diveitiiig  to  fee  fo  manv  profound  critics  hunting  for 
what  is  not  :  they  take  for  granted,  without  the  leaft  foundation,  that 
there  mul  be  fume  prccife  criterion  to  diflinguifh  epic  poetry  from  every 
Other  r.,t:cifs  of  writing.  Literary  cornpoiitions  run  into  eacii  other, 
precifely  hl^e  colours  :  in  thoir  ftrong  tints  they  are  ealily  diflinguilhcd, 
but  are  fufceptible  of  fo  much  variety,  and  of  fo  many  different  forms, 
that  we  never  can  fay  where  one  fpecies  ends  and  another  begins.  As  to 
the  gf-neral  tafle,  there  is  little  reafon  to  doubt,  that  a  work  where  he- 
roic actions  are  related  in  an  elevated  fl)'le,  will,  without  fuithcr  re<}ui= 
fite,  be  deemed  an  epic  poem,  ■* 


Ch.  XXII.     Epic  and  Dramatic  Compofitlonu        293 

tive  poem  Is  a  ftory  told  by  another  :  fadts  and  inci- 
dents pafilng  upon  the  ftage,  come  under  our  own 
obfervation  ;  and  are  befide  much  enHvened  by  ac- 
tion and  gefture,  expreffive  of  many  fentiments  be- 
yond the  reach  of  words. 

A  dramatic  compofition  has  another  property,  in- 
dependent  altogether    of  a6lion  y  which  is,  that  it 
makes  a  deeper  impreffion   than  narration  :  in  the 
former,    perfons    exprefs   their  own  fentiments  ;  in' 
the    latter,  fentimei^ts   are    related  at   fecond    hand. 
For  that  reafon,  Ariftotle,   the  father  of  critics,  lays 
:t  down  as  a  rule,  That  in  an  epic  poem  the  author  1 
ought  to    take    every  opportunity  of  introducing  his:  I 
aftors,  and  of  confini:ig  the  narrative  part  within  the/ 
narroweft   bounds.*     Homer  underftoo.d   perfeclly 
the  advantage  of  this   method  ;  and  his  two  poems 
abound  in  dialogue.     Lucan  runs  to  the  oppofite  ex- 
trem.e,  even  fo  far  as  to  fluff  his  Pbarfalia  with  cold 
and  languid  reflexions  :  the    merit  of  which    he  af- 
lumes  to  himfelf,  and  deigns  not  to  fl;iare  with  his  ac- 
tors.   Nothing  can  be  more  injudicioudy  timed,  thart 
a  chain  of  fuch  reflettiqns,  which  fufpend  the  battle 
of  Pharfalia  after  the  leaders  had  made  their  fpeeches, 
and  the  two  armies  are  ready  to  engage. f 

Ariftotle,  regarding  the  fable  only,  divides  trage- 
dy into  fimple  and  complex  :  but  it  is  of  greater  mo- 
ment, with  refpecl  to  dramatic  as  well  as  epic   poe- 
try, to  found  a  diftintlion  upon  the  different  ends  at-       T^     / 
tained   by   fuch   compofitions.     A  poem,    whether  1    a^ Jf/fAr 
dramatic  or  epic,  that   has  nothing   in  view  but  x.^)'  ,/'\^   ^ 
move  the  pafTions  and  to  exhibit  pictures  of  virtuej^'^^^'/'^ 
and  vice,  may  be  diitinguifhed  by   the  name  of  pa-]  4^fj^'^''^^ 

thetic  i 

*  Poet.  chap.  25.  fe£l.  6. 
t  Lib.  7.  from  line  385.  to  line  460, 

T3 


294  Epic  and  Dramatic  Ch.  XXH, 

~^  Ij      I     ihetic  :  but   where  a  ftory  is  purpofely  contrived  to 

r.     Y'^^Wi''       ilinO-rnl-p    rnmp    mnrnl  trntfi     h.v    {nowino"  that  rlifnr- 


r    ly      iliuftrate  fome  moral  truth,  by  fnowing  that  difor* 
\vfh^Tiii^    deriy  pafTions  naturp.lly  lead  to  external  misfortunes ; 
A^At^.  fuch  compofition   may  be  denominated  wsr*?/.*     Be- 

ide  making  a  deeper  impreflion  than  can  be  done  by 
cool  rcafoning,  a  moral  pcem  does  not  fall  fhort  of 
leafoning  in  affording  convidion  :  the  natural  con- 
ncdion  of  vice  with  mifeiy,  and  of  virtue  with  happi- 
nefs,  maybe  illullrated  by  ftating  a  faft  as  well  as  by 
urging  an  argument.  ,  Let  us  afiume,  for  example, 
the  following  moral  truths  \  that  difcord  among  the 
chiefs  renders  ineftedual  all  common  meafures ;  and 
tha<-  the  confequences  of  a  llightly  founded  quairelj 
foftered  by  pride  and  arrogance,  are  no  lefs  fatal  thari 
thofe  of  the  groilcft  injury  :  thefe  truths  may  be  in- 
culcated, by  the  quarrel  between  Agamemnon  and 
Achilles  at  the  fiege  of  Troy.  If  fa6ls  or  circum- 
ilances  be  wanting,  fuch  as  tend  to  roufe  the  turbulent 
paffions,  they  muft  be  invented  ;  but  no  accidental 
nor  unaccountable  eveiit  Ought  to  be  admitted  ;  for 
the  neceflary  or  probable  connection  between  vice  and 
mifery  is  not  learned  from  any  events  but  what  are 
naturally  occafioned  by  the  characters  and  paffions 
of  the  perfons  reprefented,  acting  in  fuch  and  fuch 
circumftances.  A  real  event  of  which  we  fee  not 
the  caufe,  m^ay  atYcrd  a  ielTcn,  upon  the  prefumptioii 
that  what  hath  happened  may  again  happen  :  but 
this  cannot  be  inferted  from  a  ftory  that  is  known  to 
be  a  fiction. 

Many 

*  The  farrie  diflir.fiion  is  applicable  tq  that  fort  of  fable  which  is  \c]tl 
to  be  the  !:;vcntion  o!  /Efop.  A  moir.I,  it  is  tiuc,  is  by  all  ciitics  ccn:- 
{i(l(  Tpcl  as  f  H'cntiyi  to  luch  a  f.iLle.'  r>ui  iioihiiig  is  more  conmuni  than  to 
l)f  led  1/iiiiuly  by  auihoritv  ;  fdr  of  tlic  ml^lelOll^  collections  I  iiave  <te»i, 
the  fables  that  cb.aily  iiiciilcate  :;  n;uial,  tnake  a  vciy  fiTi'iH  part.  In 
Tiuny  f:!blts,  ir.deed,  jirofjcr  piflurtbot  viituc  snd  vice  are  c^hibitcd  :  bu: 
the  bulk  of  thcfc  cclic  (lions  convey  1:0  inflru£ti"'on,  r.gr  aifrrd  any  amiil';- 
nient  bcycud  \\\iiX  a  (.hi'.d  ictcivci  in  iXiiJing  an  i;tcliL.uy  llory. 


Ch»  xxil 


Ccmpofitiom. 


295 


/ 


l\Iany  are  the  good  efFe6ls  of  fuch  compofidons.  A 
IDathetic  compofition,  whether  epic  or  dramatic,  tends 
to  a  habit  of  virtue,   by  exciting,  us  to    do   what  is 
right,  and  reftraining  us  from  what  is  wrong.*     Its' 
frequent  pictures  of  human  woes,    produce,   befide, 
two  effeds   extremely  falutary  :   they    improve  our  \/ 
fympathy,  and  fortify   us  to   bear  our  own  misfor-l'^ 
tunes.     A  moral  compofition  obvioufly  produces  the' 
fame  good  effefts,  becaufe  by  being  moral  it  ceafeth 
not  to  be  pathetic  :  it   enjoys  befide  an  excellence 
peculiar  to  itfelf ;  for  it  not  only  improves  the  heart, 
as  above  mentioned,   but   inltructs    the  head  by  the/ 
moral  it   contains.     I  cannot  imagine  any  entertain- 
ment more  fuited  to  a  rational   being,  than  a  work 
thus  happily  illuflrating  fome  moral  truth  :  where  a 
number  of  perfons  of  diiferent  charaders  are  engag-     ■ 
ed  in   an  important  adion,  fome  retarding,  others 
promoting,  the  great  cataftrophe  :  and  where  there 
is  dignity  of  flyle  as  well  as  of  matter.     A  work  of 
that  kind  has  our  fympathy  at  command  ;  and  can 
put  in  motion  the  whole  train  of  the  focial  affeciions : 
our   curiofity  in   fome  fcenes  is   excited,   in    others 
gratified  ;  and  our  delight  is    confummated  ^  at  the 
clofe,  upon  finding,  from    the   charafters  and  fitua- 
dons  exhibited  at  the  commencement,  that  every  in- 
cident down  to  the  final  cataftrophe  is  natural,  and 
that  the  whole  in  conjunction  make  a  regular  chain  of 
caufes  and  efiecls. 

Confidering  -that  an  epic  and  a  dramatic  poem  are 
the  fam.e  in  fubftance,  and  have  the  fame  aim  or  end, 
one  will  readily  imagine  that  fubjecls  proper  for  the 
one  mufi  be  equally  proper  for  the  other.  But  con- 
sidering their  diilerenca  as  to  form,  there  will  be 


*  See  chap.  2.  pait  i.  ferl.  ^, 
T4 


fovmd      ^^-^Jrydt-y^n 


'29^ 


Epic  and  Dramatic  Ch.  XXIL 


found  reafon  to   correcl  that  conjedure   at   lead  in 

fome  degree.     Many  lubjecls  may  indeed  be  treated 

with  equal  advantage  in  either  form  ;  but    the   fub- 

jeds  are  Hill  more  numerous  for  which  they  are  not 

equally  quaUfied  ;  and  there  are  fabjetls  proper  for 

the  one  and  not  for  the  other.      To  give  fome  llight 

2iotIon     of    the    difference,    as    there  is    no    room 

here  for  enlarging  upon  every  articleJTTobferve,  that 

i^/'^y^"^! dialogue  is  better  qualified  for  exprening  fentiments, 

//    H^  k-nd   narrative  for    difplaying  fads.     Heroifm,  mag-* 

,^jfti^'"'^^*^animity,  undaunted    courage,  and    other   elevated 

-5 — ;l>r^virtues,  figure  bed  in  adion :  tender  pailions,  and 

"^^^^T     ^^^  whole  tribe  of  fympathetic  affedions,  figure  belt 

CP^f      ^'^  fentiment.     It   clearly   follows,  that    tender    paf- 

'*^      ^^''1!^°'^^  are  more  peculiarly   the  province  of  tragedy, 

Vr*  dsJAW''^^^'^  ^^'^  heroic  addons  of  epic  poetry.* 

^riiiV^y''^   1  have  no    occafion  to  fay  mare    upon    the  epic, 

?^  confidered  as  peculiarly   adapted  to  certain  fubjeds. 

iW    J^j^  ^^LBut  as  dramatic  fubjeds  are  more  complex,  I  mull 

^^'^^     A    take  a  narrower  view  of  them  ;  which  I  do  the  more 

'Vi      (QJJf^'^^^^^^Z^y  i^^  order  to  clear  a.  point  involved  in  great; 

- ''  <  i^'^^  obfcurity  by  critics. 

In  the  chapter  of  Emotions  andPaffions,t  it  is  oc- 
cafionally  fhown,  that  the  fubjed  bed  fitted  for  trag- 
edy is  where  a  man  has  himfelf  been  the  caufe  of  his 
misfortune  ;  not  fo  as  to  be  deeply  guilty,  nor  alto- 
ether  innocent  :  the  misfortune  mult  be  occafioned 
y  a  fault  incident  to  human  nature,  and  therefore  in 
'fome  degree  venial.  Such  misfortunes  call  forth  the 
focial  atledions,  and  warmly  intereft  the  fpedator. 
An  accidental  misfortune,  if  not  extremely  fingular, 

doth 

*  In  Rapine  tender  fentiments  prevail  ;  in  Corneille,  grand  and  he- 
roic manners.  Hence  clearly  the  :^refcrence  of  tlie  former  before  the 
latter,  as  dramatic  poets.  Corneille  would  have  figured  better  in  an  he- 
foic  poem. 

t  Part  4. 


.0 


•fen.  XXII'  Compofiilms,  297 

idoth  not  greatly  move  our  pity  :  the  perfon  who 
fuffers,  being  innocent,  is  freed  from  the  greateft  of 
all  torments,  that  anguifli  of  mind  which  is  occa- 
iioned  by  remorfe  : 

Poco  e  funefta 
L'  altnii  ioriuria 
Qi^iando  ncia  iclta 
Ragione  alcana 
Ne  di  pentiifi,   i:e  darrofir. 

Metnfiajio, 

An  atrocious  criminal,   on   the  other    hand,   who  ) 
brings  misfortunes  upon  himfelf,  excites   little   pity,/ 
for  a  different  reafon  :  his  remorfe,  it  is  true,  aggra- 
vates his  diflrefs,  and  fwells  the  firft  emotions  of  pity  • 
but  thefe  are  immediarely  blunted  by    our  hatred   of 
him  as  a  criminal.      Misfortunes  that  are  not  inno- 
cent, nor  highly  criminal,  partake  the  advantages   of 
each   extreme :  they  are  attended    with   remorfe   to 
embitter   the    diflrefs,   which   raifes    our   pity    to    a 
height ;  and  the  flight  indigiiation  we  have  at  a  ve- 
nial  fault,  detraQ;s  not  fenfibly  from  our  pity.    The 
happieflof  all  fubjecls  accordingly  for  raifiiig  pity,  is 
where  a  man  of  integrity  fails  into  a  gre:it  misfortune 
by  doing  an  action  that   is   innocent,  but  Vv'hich,  by 
fome  fmgular  means,  is  conceived  by  him  to  be  crim- 
inal :  his   remorfe  aggravates  his  diltrefs  ;  and   oar 
compaffion,  unrcllrained  by  indignation,  knows   no 
bounds.     Pity  comes  thus  to  be  the  ruling  pafiion  of 
a  pathetic   tragedy  ;  and  by   proper  reprelentatioii, 
may  be  raifed  to  a  height  fcarce  exceeded   by  any 
thing    felt  in    real   hfe.     A  moral  tragedy  takes   in 
a  larger  field  ;  as  it  not  only  cxercifes  our  pity,  but 
vaifes  another  paffion,  which,  though  feliifli,  deferves , 
to  be  cherifned  equally  with  the  focial  affection.    The' 
pailion  I  have  in  view  is  fear  or  terror  5  for  when  a 
'  '  misfortune 


€9^  '     Epic  and  Dramatic  Gh.  XXIL 

misfortune  Is  the  natural  confequence  of  fome  wrong  . 
bias  in  the  temper,  every  fpectaf;or  who  is   confcious 
of.fuch  a  bias  in  hiinfelf,  takes  the  alarm,  and  dreads 
his  falling  into  the  fame   misfortune  :  and  by  the 
emotion  of  fear  or  terror,   frequently  reiterated  in  a 
variety  of  moral  tragedies,  the  fpeftators  are  put  up^ 
pn  their  guard  againfl  the  diforders  of  paffion. 
>     The  commentators  upon  Ariflotle,  and  other  crit- 
ics, have  been  much  gravelled  about  the  account 
[given  of  tragedy  by  that  authoY  :  "  That  by  means 
.^^  Jof  pity  and  terror,  it  refines  or  purifies  In  us  all  forts 
/^  ^'H^of  paffion."     But  no  one  v/ho  has  a  clear  conception 
^  (r{  IC)'*^^  ^^^  ^^^  ^--^^  effects  of  a  good  tragedy,  can  have 
^^^l       2.ny  difficulty  about  Arillotle's  meaning  :  our  pity  is 
engaged  for  the  perfons  reprefented  ;  and  our  terror 
is' -upon  our  own  account.  ^  Pity  indeed  is  here  made 
to  ftand  for  all  the  fympathetic  emotions,  becaufe  of 
thefe  it  is  the  capital.     There  can  be  no  doubt  that 
our  fympathetic  emotions  are  refined  or  improved  by 
daily    exercife  ;     and  in   what    manner   our   other 
paffions   are   refined  by  terror,  I  have  jufl  now  faid. 
One  thing  is  certain,  that  no  other  meaning  can  juflly 
be   given    to  the   foregoing  doctrine  than  that  now 
mentioned  ;  and  that  it  was  really  Arillotle's  mean- 
ing, appears  from  his  13th  chapter,  where  he  delivers 
feveral   propofitions   conformable    to  the  doclrine  as 
here  explained.     Thefe,  at  the  fame  time,  I  take  hb- 
;^,^4rrl/  \erty  to  mention  ;  becaufe,  as  far  as  authority  can  gOj 
l^       ^they  confirm  the  foregoing  reafoning  about  fubjecis 
^  v-CT>j  I  proper  for  tragedy.     The  lirft  propofition  is,  That  it 
being  the  province  of  tragedy  to  excite  pity  and  ter- 
ror,  an  innocent  perfon  failing  into  adverfity  ought 
7iever  to  be  the  fubjeft.     This  propofition- is  anece:  - 
jQ-ry    confequence  of  his   doctrine   as  explained  :  a 
fubjecl  of  that  nature  may  indeed  excite  pity   and 
terror  ;  but  in  the  former  in  an  inferior  degree,  an4 


^ 


t:H.  XXII,  Compcfitionu  ^99 

*''•  the  latter  no  degree  for  moral  inftruftion.  The 
fecond  propofition  is,  That  the  hiilory  of  a  wicked 
perfon  m  a  change  from  mifery  to  happinefs,  ought 
not  to  be  reorefented.  It  excites  neither  terror  nor 
compafTion,  nor  is  agreeable  in  any  refpeCl.  The  . 
third  is,  That  the  misfortunes  of  a  wicked  perform.  -^ 
ought  not  to  be  reprefented.  Such  reprefentation  iJ 
may  be  agreeable  in  fome  meafure  upon  a  principle 
of  juftice  :  but  it  will  not  move  our  pity  ;  nor  any 
degree  of  terror,  except  in  thofe  of  the  fame  vicious 
difpcfiticn  with  the  perfon  reprefented.  The  lafl  prop- 
ofition is,  That  the  only  character  fit  for  reprefenta- 
tion lies  in  the  middle,  neither  eminently  good  nor 
eminently  bad  ;  where  the  misfortune  is  not  the 
effect  of  deliberate  vice,  but  of  fome  involuntary 
fault,  as  our  author  expreifes  it.*  The  only  objection 
I  find  to  Ariflotle's  account  of  tragedy,  is,  that  he 
confines  it  Vvithin  too  narrow  bounds,  by  refufing 
admittance  to  the  pathetic  kind  :  for  if  terror  be 
eifential  to  tragedy,  no  reprefentation  defer ves  that 
name  but  the  moral  kind,  where  the  misfortunes 
exhibited  are  caufed  by  a  wrong  balance  of  mind,  or 
fome  diforder  in  the  internal  conRitution  :  fuch  mis- 
fortunes always  fuggeft  moral  inflruction  ;  and  by 
fuch  misfortunes  only,  can  terror  be  excited  for  our 
improvement. 

Thus  Ariflotle's  four  propofitlotis  above  mentioned^ 
relate  foicly  to  tragedies  of  the  moral  kind.  Thofe 
of  the  pathetic  kind,  are  not  confined  within  fo  nar- 
row limits  :  fubjecls  fitted  for  the  theatre,  are  not  iii 
fuch  plenty  as  to  make  us  reject  innocent  misiortune;s 
which  roufe  our  fympathy,  though  they  inculcate  no 
moral.     With  refneil  indeed  to  fabiccts  of  that  kindj 


'I 


ic 


*  If  ary  one,  can  be  .imufcd  with  a  grave  difcourfe  wliicli  promif'i'tli 
jnucli  and  pci'oir.is  uotlniig,  I  refer  to  Bruni'.A'  w;  iks  T'leatrc  Qrec, 
jf'iellr.vuery  dil'ccuir.;  on  the  piigin  ot"  ir?gt(iy. 


300  Epic  and  Dramatic,  Ch.  XX^; 

^vv^cfi^^fit   may  be  doubted,  whether  the  conclufion  ougrnt 


f  4-,     not  always  to  be  fortunate.     Where  a  perfon  of  in* 
|j_  l^l  tegrity   is    reprefented  as  fuffering  to  the  end  under 
Tniisfortunes  purely  accidental,  we  depart difcontented, 
i    and  with  fome  obfcure  fenfe  of  injuflice  :  for  feldoni 


is  man  fo  fubmiffive  to  Piovidence,  as  not  to  revolt 
againft  the  tyranny  and  vexations  of  blind  chance  j 
he    will    be    tempted  to  fay.    This  ought  not  to  be. 
Chance,  giving  an  imprefiion  of  anarchy  and  mifrule, 
produces  always  a  damp  upon  the  mind.     I  give  for 
an  example    the  Romeo  and  yuliet  of  Shakefpear, 
y/here  tb+e    fatal   cataiirophe  is  occafioned  by  Friar 
Laurence's  coming  to  the  monum.ent  a  minute  too 
late  :  we   are  vexed  at  the  unlucky  chance,   and  go 
away  diilatished.      S,uch  impreilions,    which  ought 
not  to  be  cherifned,  are  a  fufticient  reafon  for  exclud- 
ing (lories  of  that  kind  from  the  theatre.     The  mif- 
fortunes  of  a  virtuous  perfon,  arifmg  fi'om  neceflary 
(caufes  or  from  a  chain  of  unavoidable  circumft ances, 
are  confidered  in  a  different  Hght.     A  regular  chain 
pf  caufes  and  effefts  direded  by  the  general  laws  of 
nature,  never  fl\ils  to  fugged  the  hand  of  Providence  ; 
to  v/hich  we  fubmit  without  refentment,  being  con- 
Icious  that  fubmifiion  is  our  duty.*    For  that  reafon, 
we  are  not  difgufted  with  the  diilreffes  of  Voltaire's 
Mariamne^   though  redoubled  on  her  till  her  death, 
without   the  leail  fauit  or  failing  on  her  part  :  her 
misfortunes  are  owing  to  a  caufe  extremely  natural, 
and  not   unfrequent,   the   jealoufy  of  a   barbarous 
hufband.     The  fate  of  Defdeniona,  in  the  Moor  of 
Venice^  aftecls  us  in  the  faiiie  manner.     We  are  not 
fo   eafily   reconciled  to  the  fate  of  (Cordelia  in  King 
Lear  :  the  caufcs  of  her  misfortune  are  by  no  means 
fo  evident,  as  to  exclude  the  gloomy  notion  of  chance. 
In   fcort,    a  perfect  character  fuffering  under  misfor-^ 

taneSj 

t  See  Eir^ys  on  the  Piinciples  of  Morality,  edit.  2.  p.  291* 


.tn.  XXn.  Compofitlons.  ^oi 

tunes,  is  qualified  for  being  the  fubjed  of  a  pathetic 
tragedy,  provided  chance  be  excluded.  Nor  is  a 
perfed:  character  altogether  inconfident  with  a  moral 
tragedy  :  it  may  fuccefsfully  be  introduced  in  an  un- 
der-part,  if  the  chief  place  be  occupied  by  an  inipcr- 
fecl  charaQer,  from  which  a  moral  can  be  dra^.vn. 
This  is  the  cafe  of  Defdemona  and  Mariamne  juIl 
mentioned  ;  and  it  is  the  cafe  of  Monimia  and  Bel- 
videra,  in  Otway's  two  tragedies,  The  Orphan,  and 
Venice  Prefervcl. 

I  had  an  early  opportunity  to  unfold  a  curious 
doftrine.    That   fable    operates   on  our  paiTions,  by 
reprefenting  its  events  as  pafHng  in  our  fight,  and  by      /-) 
deluding  us  into  a  conviction  of  reahty.*     Hence,  ill  l(^i-€'ru 
epic  and  dramatic  compofitions,   e^ery  circumflance     ^J^^-^  / 
ought  to  be  ehiploy'd    that  may  pro*iote  the  delu-  af^L^^ 
fion  i)Tuch  ks  the borrov/ino;  from hilldry  fome  noted  \  ^  ,  .... 
event,  with  the  addition  or  circtmltances  tnat  may    7   J  ^ 
anfwer  the  author's  purpofe  :  the  principal  faQ:s  are    l/^  j 
knovv'n   to   be  true  ;  and  we  are  difpofed  to  extend  'v^   ; 
our  belief  to  every  circumflance.     But  in  choofmg  a        ^T 
fubjecl"  that  makes  a  figure  in  hiftory,  greater  precaii- 
tion   is  ncceflary  than  where  the  whole  is  a  fiaiono  ^c^/n.j, 
In   the    latter  cafe  there  is  full  fcope  for  invention  : 
the  author  is  under  no  reflraint  other  than  that  the 
characters   and   incidents  be  jufl   copies  of  nature. 
But  where  the  flory  is  founded  on  truth,  no  circum- 
flanccs  mufl  be  added,  but  fuch  as  connect  naturally     Jf^^ 
with   what   are    known  to  be  true  ;^^hillory  may  be   ^^^ 
fupplied,  but  mu^  not  be  contradidcd  \  further,  th^  ""yy^  (^ 
fubje61:  chofen  mufl  be  diflant  in  timC',  or  at  lenfl.  iri  ^^y^h 
place  ;  for    the    familiarity  of  recent    perfons    and   ^^yt,,. 
events  ought  to  be  avoided.    Famj'liarity  ought  nrore  ^^t.^fj^ 
efpecially  to  be  avoided  in  an  epic  poem,  the  peculiar  ^^^t^yt^fz^ 

charaQer 

f  ^'  Chnp.  o,  part  1.  fcQ.  7, 


^ci  Epic  and  Dramatic*  Ch.  XXIL 

characler  of  which  Is  dignity  and  elevation  :  moderHi 
manners  make  no  figure  in  fuch  a  poem.* 

After  Voltaire,    no  writer,  it   is   probable,    will 
think  of  rearing  an  epic  poem  upon  a  recent  event  in 
the    hiitory  of  his  own  country.      But  an  event  of 
that  kind  is  perhaps   not  altogether   unqualified  for 
tragedy  :  it  was   admitted  in   Greece  ;  and   8hake- 
fpear  has   employ'd  it   fuccefsfiilly  in  fevei-al  of  his 
pieces.     One  advantage  it  poffeiTes  above  ficlion,  that 
of  more  readily  engaging  our  belief,    which    tends 
above  any  other  circumftance  to  raife  our  fympathy. 
The  fcene   of  comedy  is    generally   laid    at    home  i 
familiarity   is  no   objeftion  ;  and  we  are  peculiarly 
fenfible  of  the  ridicule  of  our  own  manners. 
'^     After  a  proper  fubjed  is  chofen,  the  dividing  It  In-. 
\'hX^  to    parts    requires    fome  art.     The    conclufion  gf  a 
//    Jj  book  in  an  epic  poem,  or  of  an  act   in  a  play,  can- 
i^OoTf)  not  be  altogether  arbitrary  ;  nor  be  intended  for  io 
^f^/u-^j^ight  a  purpofe  as  to  make  the  parts  of  equal  length. 
.^^^/t^'The  fuppofed  paufe  at   the  end  of  every  book,  and 
2it^ /Zi^ie  real  paufe  at  the  end  of  every  acl,  ought  always 
-^fftWcj-io  coincide  with  fome  paufe  in  the  aftion.     In   this 
v--"-^  "^^efpecl,  a  dramatic   or  epic   poem  ought  to  refemble 
a  fcntence  or  period  in  language   divided  into   mem- 
bers that  aie  diftinguiflied  from  each  other  by  proper 
paufes  J  or  it  ought  to  refemble  a   piece    of  mufic, 
having  a  full  clofe  at  the  end,  preceded  by  imperfect 
clofes  that  contribute  to  the  melody.     Every  aft  in  a 
dramatic  poem  ought  therefore  to  clofe  v/ith  fome  in- 
cident that  makes  a  paufe  in  the  action  j  for  other- 
wife 

*  I  would  not  from  this  cbfervntlon  be  tbou!;1it  to  undervalue  modern 
manners.  Tlie  roiighn'^fs  and  impctuofity  of  ancient  mnnners,  may  be 
l)et:er  fitted  for  an  epic  poem,  vithout  b^ing  better  fitted  for  fociety. 
Biit  without  regard  to  that  circiimflancc,  it  is  the  familiarity  of  modem 
manneis  that  unqualifies  them  for  a  lolty  fubjeft.  The  dignity  of  our 
prefcnt  manners,  will  be  better  underliood  in  future  ages,  when  they  are 
itJO  lonpfr  f;;j7iiliar. 


Ch,  XXlt  Compofitionsi  ^  5c;5 

wife  there  can  be  no  pretext  for  interrupting  the  rep- 
refentation  :  it  would  be  abfurd  to  break  off  in  the 
very  heat  of  aftion  ;  againfl  which  every  one  would 
exclaim  :  the  abfurdity  ftill  remains  where  the  aftion 
relents,  if  it  be  not  aftualiy  fufpended  fo?  feme  time. 
This  rule  is  alfo  applicable  to  an  epic  po^m  :  though 
in'  it  a  deviation  from  the  rule  is  iefs  remarkable  ; 
becaufe  it  is  in  the  reader V power  to  hide  the  abfurd- 
ity, by  proceeding  inflantly  to  another  book.  The 
firft  book  of  Paradife  Loft  ends  without  any  clofe, 
perfed  or  imperfed  :  it  breaks  off '  abruptly, 
where  Satan,  feated  on  his  throne,  is  prepared  to 
harangue  the  convocated  hoft  of  the  fallen  an- 
gels ;  and  the  fecond  book  begins  with  the  fpeech. 
Milton  feems  to  have  copied  the  JEncid^  of  which 
the  two  firft  books  are  divided  much  in  the  fame 
manner.  Neither  is  there  any  proper  paufe  at  the 
end  of  the  fifth  book  of  the  Mne'id.  There  is  no 
proper  paufe  at  the  end  of  the  feventh  book  of  Para- 
dife Loji,  nor  at  the  end  of  the  eleventh.  In  the 
iHad  little  attention  is  given  to  this  rule. 

This  branch  of  the  fubjecl  fhail  be  clofed  with  a; 
general  rule,  That  atStion  being  the  fundamental  ,/) 
part  of  every  compofition  whether  epic  or  dramatic, 
the  fentiments  and  tone  of  language  ought  to  be  fub- 
fervient  to  the  action,  fo  as  to  appear  natural,  and 
proper  for  the  occafion.  The  application  of  this 
rule  to  our  modern  plays,  would  reduce  the  bulk  of 
them  to  a  (keleton.* 

After 

*  En  gSncral  il  y  a  benncnnp  de  difconrs  ct  r'cu  d'aflion  fur  la  fcene 
F/anfcMlc,  Quelqu'un  difoit  en  fortant  d'une  idece  de  Denis  !e  Tiran, 
Je  n'ai  risii  vii,  mais  j'ai  tntendii  force  paroles.  Voila  ce  qii'on  pcut 
dire  en  fortant  des  pieces  Franfoifes.  Racine  et  Corneillc  avcc  tout  !rur 
genie  nc  Hmt  eux-mtmes  que  des  parlcurs  ;  et  leur  fucccfTcur  pH  \r. 
premier  qui,  a  limitation  des  Anglois  ait  ole  inetire  quelquefois  la  fv-ene 
en  rcprefcntaiion.  Communcmenl  tout  fe  pafTe  en  beaux  dialogues Jjieij 
agenc^s,    bicn    rorilans,  cu  Ton  voit   d'abcrd   que  le  premier   fcin  d/r 

chariur' 


m 


*04  '  Epic  and  Dra7nHtk  Ch.  SXin 

After  carrying  on  together  epic  and  dramatic  tom^- 
pofitions,  I  fliall  mention  circumftances  peculiar  tc> 
each  ;  begining  with  the  epic  kind.     In  a  theatrical 
entertainment,   which  employs  both  the  eye  and  the 
car,  it  would  be  a  grofs  abfurdity,  to  introduce  upon, 
the  ftage  fnperior  beings  in  a  vifible-  fnape.   .  There 
s  no  place  for  fuch  objection  in  an  epic  poem  ;  and 
l3oileau5'*    with  many  other  critics,   declares  flrongly 
^J^^f^'-^ov  that  fort  of  machinery  in  an  epic  poem.  But  wav- 
rj^.^^'  ing  authority,  which  is  apt  to  impofe  upon  the  judg- 
„         inent,  let  us  draw  what  light  we  can  from  reafon.     I 
Y  begin  with  a  preliminary  remark,  That  this  matter   is 

but  indictinctiy  handled  by  critics  :  the  poetical  priv- 
ilege of  animating  jnfenfible  objects  for  enlivening  a 
defcription,  is  very  different  from,  what  is  termed  ?;2^- 
cbinery,  where  deities,  angels,  devils,  or  other  fuper- 
natural  powers,  are  introduced  as  real  perfonages. 
mixing  in  the  a£tion,  and  contributing  to  the  cataftro- 
phe  ;  and  yet  thefe  are  conftantly  jumbled  together 
in  the  reafoning.  The  former  is  founded  on  a 
natural   principle  y\  but  can   the   latter   claim  the 

fame 

chaq-ae  interlccnteur  eR  toujours  cf.lul  dc  brllier.  Prefqae  tout  s'enoncs 
en  niaximes  gcneralcs.  Qiielque  agitt's  qiriU  puilTcnt  ctre,  i!s  fongriit 
toujoui:<!  plus  au  public  qu'a  eux  mcmes;  une  fentence  leur  cotite  moins 
qu'iiTi  fentiment  ;  les  pieces  de  Racine  et  de  Moliere  exceptees,  le  ;> 
eft  piefque  aufu  fciupuleufemcnt  banni  de  la  kene  I'rancoife  que  dcs 
ecrits  de  Port-Royal  ;  et  ies  pafTion.s  bumaines,  aufTi  modcftes  que  i'hu- 
rniliit  CbretiennC}  n'y  parlcnt  jamais  que  par  on.  II  y  a  encore  unecertaine 
dignite  mnnieree  dans  ja  ^elie  et  dans  le  propos,  qui  ne  peimet  jamais 
a  la  pafTicn  de  parler  exafc-tement  fon  language,  ni  a  I'auCeur  <^c  reven: 
fon  perfonas;e,  et  de  fe  trarfporter  au  lieu  de  la  fcene  ;  niais  le  tient  tou- 
jours  cnchainc  fur  le  theatre,  et  fous  les  yeux  des  {peftateurs.  Aiufli  les 
fituation.s  les  plus  vivcs  ne  iui  foi'^-elies  jamais  oviblier  un  bel  airange- 
ment  de  phrafes,  ni  des  attitudes  elctfanics  ;  et  fi  le  de  feipoir  lui  plAng* 
un  poionard  dans  le  coeur,  non  content  d'obr-rver  la  decence  en  tombant 
comme  Po'ixene,  il  ne  tombe  point  ;  la  decence  le  maintient  debout 
uprc^  fa  mort,  et  tou3  ceux  qui  vicnncnt  d'expirer  s'en  retournert  l'in« 
llant  d'apies  fur  leurs  janibes.  RcuJJcaii, 

*  Tbird  part  of  his  art  of  poetry. 
t  Chap,  Co.  fcft.  1. 


Ch.XXII.  Compofitiom,  305 

fame  authority  ?  far  from  it  ;  nothing  is  more  un-  ^^^^^^^ 
natural.    Its  effeds,  at  the  fame  time,  are  deplorable,  ^f^^^  -«i^ 
Firft,  it  gives  an  air  of  .fidion  to  the  whole;  andl   lyHo^dfu^ 
prevents  that  impreffion  of  reaUty,  which  is  requifiteVy  ; j/     > 
to  interefl  our  aifedions,  and  to  move  our   paflions.*'  ''''    '  /   *^ 
This  of  itfelf  is  fufficient   to  explode  machinery,  ^  ft^'^^ 
whatever  entertainment  it  may  afford  to  readers  of  a  h^ft^*'^'' 
fantaftic  tafte  or  irregular  imagination.      And,  next,  T*^**^-'**^'*^ 
were  it  poffible,  by  difguihng  the  fiction,  to  delude  \(j]  J   crrf 
us  into  a  notion  of  reality,  which  I  think  can  hardlvl'^s,^    ./^v-c 
be  ;    an  infuperable   objedion    would    flill  remain,/^J7'''"Y^^' 
thatJthe  aim  or  end  of  an  epic   poem  can  never  be  7^<^/-^^^>^ 
attained  in  any  perfedion,  >vhere  machinery  is  intro-   'f'^^Vt^ 
duced  ;  for   an  evident  reafon,  that  virtuous   emo-  '(■^^f7l^''y^, 
tions  cannot  be  raifed  fuccefsfuliy,  but  by  the  adions  o^^^^^^f^jT 
of  thofe  who  are  endued  with  paflions  and  affedions  l^t^TT^'^^'^^^ 
like  our  own,  that  is,  by  human  adions  :  and  as  for 
moral  inftrudion,  it  is  clear,  that  none  can  be  drawn 
from  beings  who  ad  not   uponthe  fame  principles 
with  us.     A  fable  in  j^fop's  manner  is  no  objedibn 
to  this  reafoning  :  his  lions,   bulls,  and    goalSj  are 
truly  men  in  difguife  :  they  ad  and  feel  in  every  re-    " 
I]:)ed  as  huraan  beings  ;  and  the  moral   we  draw  is 
founded  on  that  fuppofition.     Homer,  it  is  true,  in- 
troduces the  gods  into  his  fable  :  but  the  religion  of 
his  country  authorifed   that  liberty  ;  it  being  an  ar- 
ticle in  the  Grecian,  creed,  that  the  gods  often  inter- 
pofe  vihbly  and  bodily  in    human    affairs.     I  mull 
'liowever   obferve,  that  Homer's  deities  do   no  hon- 
our to  his  poems  :  fictions  that,  tranfgreis  the  bounds 
of  nature,  feldom  have  a  good  effe61:  :  they  may  in- 
flame the  imagination  for  a  moment,  but  will  not  be 
relifhed  by  any  perfon  of  a  corred  tafle.     They  may 

be 

*  See  chap.  2.  part  I.  fef^,  7, 

Vol.  II.  U 


3o5  Epic  and  Dramatic.  Ch.  XXIL 

be  of  fome  ufe  to  the  lower  rank  of  writers ;  but  arf- 
author  of  genius  has  much  finer  materials  of  Na- 
ture's produftion,  for  elevating  his  fubjed,  and  mak-- 
ing  it  interefting. 

One  would  be  apt  to  think,  that  Boileau,  de- 
claring for  the  Heathen  deities  as  above,  intended 
them  only  for  embellifhing  the  didion  :  but  unluckily 
he  banifhes  angels  and  devils,  who  undoubtedly  make 
a  figure  in  poetic  language,  equal  to  the  Heathen 
deities.  Efceau,  therefore,  by  pleading  for  the  lat- 
ter in  oppontpgn  to  the  former,  certainly  meant,  if 
he  had  any  diitindl  meaning,  that  the  Heathen  dei- 
ties may  be  introduced  as  aclors.  And,  in  fa6l,  he 
himfelf  is  guilty  of  that  glaring  abfurdity,  where  it 
is  not  fo  par^nablfeas  in  an  epic  poem.  In  his  ode 
upon  the'takihg\6rNamur  he  demands  with  a  moft 
ferious  countenance,- whether  the  walls  were  built  by 
Apollo  or  Neptune?  and  'in 'relating"^ the  paflage  of 
the  Rhine  anno  1672,  he  defcribes  thegod  of  that 
river  as  fighting  with  all  his  might  to  oppofe  the 
French  monarch  :  which  is  confounding  fidion  with 
reality  at  a  flrange  rate.  The  French  writers  in  gen- 
eral run  into  this  error  :  wonderful  the  effeft  of 
cuftom,  to  hide  from  them  how  ridiculous  fuch  fic- 
tions are  ! 

That  this  is  a  capital  error  in  the  Gierufakmme 
liherata^  Taflb's  greatefi:  admirers  mufl  acknowledge: 
a  fituation  can  never  be  intricate,  nor  the  reader 
ever  in  pain  about  the  cataitrophe,  as  long  as  there 
is  an  angel,  devil,  or  magician,  to  lend  a  helping 
hand.  Voltaire,  in  his  eflay  upon  epic  poetry,  talk- 
ing of  the  P bar/alia,  obferves  judicroufly,  "  That 
the  proximity  of  time,  the  notoriety  of  events, 
the  character  of  the  age,  enlightened  and  political, 
joined  with  the  folidity  of  Lucan's  fubjeft,  deprived 
"him  of  poetical  fiction."     Is  it  not  amazing,   that  a 

critic 


X^H,  XXIL  Compofitioru.  307 

eritic  who  reafons  fo  juflly  with  refpe£t  to  others, 
can  be  fo  blind  with  refpedl  to  himfelf  ?  Voltaire, 
not  fatisfied  to  enrich  his  language  with  images  drawn 
from  invifible  and  fuperior  beings,  introduces  them 
into  the  adtion  :  in  the  fixth  canto  or  the  Henriade 
St.  Louis  appears  in  psrfon,  and  terrifies  the  foldiers 
in  the  feventh  canto,  St.  Louis  fends  the  god  of 
Sleep  to  Henry  ;  and  m  the  tenth,  the  demons  of 
Difcord,  Fanaticifm,  War,  &c.  ailift  Aumale  in  a 
iingle  combat  with  Turenne,  and  are  driven  away 
by  a  good  angel  brandifhing  the  fword  of  God.  To 
blend  fuch  fidtitious  perfonages  in  the  fame  adion 
with  mortals,  makes  a  bad  figure  at  any  rate  ;  and 
is  intolerable  in  a  hiftory  fo  recent  as  that  of  Henry 
IV.     But  perfedlion  is  not  the  lot  of  man.* 

I  have  tried  ferious  reafonings  upon  this  fubjecl : 
but  ridicule,  I  fuppofe,  will  be  found  a  more  fuccefs- 
ful  weapon,  which  Addifon  has  applied  in  an  elegant 
manner  :  "  Whereas  the  time  of  a  general  peace  is, 
in  all  appearance,  drawing  near;  being  informed 
that  there  are  feveral  ingenious  perfons  who  intend 
to  fhow  their  talents  on  fo  happy  an  occafion,  and  be- 
ing willing,  as  much  as  in  me  lies,  to  prevent  that 

efFufioii 

*  When  I  commenced  author,  my  aim  was  to  amufe,  and  perhaps  to 
inftruft,  but  never  to  give  pain.  I  accordingly  avoided  every  living 
author,  till  the  Henriade  occurred  to  me  as  the  bed  inflance  I  could  find 
for  illuftrating  the  doftrine  in  the  text;  and  I  yielded  to  the  temptation, 

■tf  judging  that  my  flight  criticifms  would  never  reach  M.  de  Voltaire. 
They  have,  however  rcarhcd  him  ;  and  have,  as  I  am  informed,  flirred 
up  fome  refentment.  I  am  af}Ii£ted  at  this  information  ;  for  vhat  title 
have  I  fo  wound  the  minrt  more  than  the  body  ?  It  would  bcfide  fliow 
ingratitude  to  a  celebrated  writer,  who  is  highly  entertaining,  and  who 
has  bellowed  on  me   manv  a  delicious  morfel,     Mv  only  excufc  tor  giv» 

-  ing  offence  is,  that  it  was  undefigned;  for  to  plead  that  the  ccnfnre  is 
^jurt,  is  no  excufe.  As  the  offence  was  public,  I  take  this  oppoiiunitv  to 
make  the  apology  equally  fo.  I  hope  it  will  be  fatisfaflory  :  reihaps 
act, — I  owe  it  however  to  my  owncharafter. 

U2 


^£)S  Epic  and  Dramatic  Ch.  XXIL 

efFufion  of  nonfenfe,  which  we  have  good  caufe  to 
apprehend  ;  I  do  hereby  ftriftly  require  every  per- 
fon  who  fhali  write  on  this  fubjetl,  to  remember  that 
he  is  a  Chriftiati,  and  not  to  facrifice  his  catechifmto 
his  poetry.  In  order  to  it,  I  do  expe£l  of  him,  in 
the  firfl  ^lace,  to  make  his  own  poem  without  depend- 
ing upori^hoebus  for  any  part  of  it,  or  calling  out 
for  aid  upba  any  of  the  nlufes  by  name.  I  do  like- 
wife  pofifiyely  forbid  the  fending  of  Mercury  with 
any  particular  meffage  or  difpatch  relating  to  the 
peace  ;  aitd  ftall  by  no  means  fuffer  Minerva  to 
take  upon  her  the  fliape  of  any  plenipotentiary  con- 
cerned in  this  great  work.  I  do  farther  declare, 
that  I  fliall  not  allow  the  deflinies  to  have  had  an 
hand  in  the  deaths  ofthefeveral  thoufands  who  have 
been  flain  in  the  late  war  ;  being  of  opinion  that  all 
fuch  deaths  may  be  well  accounted  for  by  the  Chrift- 
ian  fyflem  of  powder  and  ball.  I  dj^  therefore  ftrid:- 
ly  forbid  the  fates  to  cut  the  thread  of  man's  life  up- 
on any  pretence  whatfoever,  unlefs  it  be  for  the  fake  of 
the  rhyme.  And  whereas  I  have  good  reafon  to  fear, 
that  Neptune  will  have  a  great  deal  of  bufmefs  on  his 
hands  in  feveral  poems  which  we  may  now  fuppofe  are 
upon  the  anvil,  I  do  alfo  prohibit  his  appearance,  un- 
lefs it  be  done  in  metaphor,  fimile,  or  any  very  fnort 
allufion  :  and  that  even  here  he  may  not  be  permit- 
ted to  enter,  but  v^ith  great  caution  and  circumfpec- 
tion.  I  defire  that  the  fame  rule  may  be  extended 
to  his  whole  fraternity  of  Heathen  gods  ;  it  being 
my  defign,  to  condemn  every  poem  to  the  flames  in 
which  Jupiter  thunders,  or  exercifes  any  other  aft 
of  authority  which  does  not  belong  to  him.  In  fhort, 
I  exped  that  no  Pagan  agent  fiiall  be  introduced,  or 
any  fa£t  related  which  a  man  cannot  give  credit  to 
with  a  good  confcience.  Provided  always^  that  noth- 
ing herein  contained  ihail  extend,   or  be  conftrued 

£0 


Cii.  XXII*  Compofiilons,  309 

to  extend,  to  feveral  of  the  female  poets  in  this  na- 
tion, who  iliall  dill  be  left  in  full  pofleffion  of  their 
gods  and  goddeifes,  in  the  fame  manner  as  if  this  pa- 
per had  never  been  written.*" 

The  marvellous  is  indeed  fo  much  promoted  by 
machinery,  that  it  is  not  wonderful  to  find  it  embrac- 
ed by  the  plurality  of  writers,  and  perhaps  of  read- 
ers. If  indulged  at  all,  it  is  generally  indulged  to 
excefs.  Homer  introduceth  his  deities  with  no  greater 
ceremony  than  as  mortals  ;  and  Virgil  has  ftill  left 
moderation  :  a  pilot  fpent  with  watching  cannot  fall 
afleep,  and  drop  into  the  fea  by  natural  means :  one 
bed  cannot  receive  the  two  lovers,  iEneas  and  Dido, 
without  the  immediate  interpofition  of  fuperior  pow- 
ers. The  ridiculous  in  fuch  nciions,  muff  appear  even 
through  the  thickeft  vail  of  gravity  and  folemnity. 

Angels  and  devils  fervc  equally  with  Heathen  de- 
ities as  materials  for  figurative  language  ;  perhaps  • 
better  among  Chriflians,  becaufe  we  believe  in  them, 
?.nd  not  in  Heathen  deities.  But  every  one  is  fenfi- 
ble,  as  well  as  Boilcau,  that  the  invihble  powers  in 
our  creed  make  a  much  worfe  figure  as  a*5lors  in  a 
modern  poem,  than  the  invifible  powers  in  the  Hea- 
then creed  did  in  ancient  poems  ;  thecaufe  of  which 
is  not  far  to  feek.  The  Heathen  deities,  in  the 
opinion  of  their  votaries,  were  beings  elevated  one 
itep  only  above  mankind,  fubje^l  to  the  fame  paf- 
fions,  and  directed  by  the  fame  natives  ;  therefore 
not  altogelher  improper  to  mix  Vv^ith  men  in  an  im- 
portant action.  In  our  creed,  fuperior  beings  are 
placed  at  fuch  a  mighty  diftance  from  us,  and  are  of 
a  nature  fo  different,  that  with  no  propriety  *can  we 
appear  with  them  upon  the  faine  ftage.:  man,  a  crea- 
ture much  inferior,  lofcs  ail  dignity  m  the  compari- 
ion.  There 

*  Speflator,  No.  5123. 
U3 


3^^  Epic  and  Dramatic  Ch.  XXIL 

/  .J,  ^    /jf 

Y  t^yi^^JM^\\tre.  can  be  no  doubt  that  an  hiflorical  poem 

'^t^jT'^i^admits  the  embellifliment  of  allegory,  as  well  as  of 
,^i//^///-^>U4A^etaphor,  limile,  or  other  figure.  Moral  truth  in 
f^,ff!f  particular.  Is  finely  illuftrated  in  the  allegorical  man- 
''^f^/iV}^  J^er  :  it  amufes  the  fancy  to  find  abflracl  terms,  by 
/tyyi--^^*^  a  fort  of  iridic,  metamorphos'd  into  aftive  beings  ; 
and  it  is  highk  pleafing  to  difcover  a  general  propo- 
fition  in  a  piaured  event.  But  allegorical  beings 
lould  be  confined  within  their  own  fphere,-  and 
ever  be  admitted  to  mix  in  the  principal  adtion,  nor 
f^tiAMJitp  co-operate  in  retarding  or  advancing  the  cataftro- 
j,  ^^^iV-^y^ptie.  This  would^aje  a  flitl  worfe  effecl:  than  in- 
/ix^t^  vifible  powers  ;  and  lam  ready  to  allign  the  reafon. 

The  impreilion  of  real  exiftence,  efiential  to  an  epic 
poem,  is  inconfiflent  with  that  figurative  exiftence 
which  is  eflential  to  an  allegory  ;*  and  therefore  no 
means  can  more  effeftually  prevent  the  impreffion  of 
reality,  than  to  introduce  allegorical  beings  co-ope- 
rating with  thofe  whom  we  conceive  to  be  really  ex- 
ifting.  The  love-epifode,  in  the  Rcnriade^\  infuffer- 
able  by  the  difcordant  mixture  of  allegory  with  real 
life,  is  copied  from  that  of  Rinaldo  and  Armida,  in 
the  Gicrufakmme  Uberafai,  which  hath  no  merit  to  in- 
titie  it  to  be  copied.  An  allegorical  objed,  fuch  as 
Fame  in  the  JEneid^  and  the  Temple  of  Love  in  the 
Henriadej  may  find  place  in  a  defcription  :  But  to 
introduce  Difcord  as  a  real  perfonage,  imploring  the 
alTiftance  of  Love,  as  another  real  perfonage,  to  ener- 
vate the  courage  of  the  hero,  is  making  thefe  figur- 
ative beings  a(5t  beyond  their  fphere,  and  creating  a 
{Irange  jumble  of  truth  and  fidion.  '  The  allegory 
of  Sin  and  Death  in  the  Faradifc  Lojl^  is,  I  prefiime, 
not  generally  reliflied,  though  it  is  not  entirely  of  the 
fame  nature  with  what  I  have  been  condemning  :  in  a 
Work  comprehending  the  achievements  of  luperior 

beings, 

*  See  chap.  2c.  fcfl.  6.  +  Qi.vAo  g. 


€h.  XXII. 


Conipofitions, 


;ii 


beings.,  there  is  more  room  for  fancy  than  where  it 
is  confined  to  human  adions. 

What  is  the  true  notion  of  an  epifode  ?  or  how 
is  it  to  be  diflinguifhed  from  the  principal  adion  ? 
Every  incident  that  promotes  or  retards  the  cataftro- 
phe,  muft  be  part  of  the  principal  action.    This  clears 
the  nature   of  an  epifode  ;  which  may  be   defined, 
*'  An  incident  connefted    with  the  principal  adion, 
but  contributing  neither  to  advance  nor    to  retard 
it."  The  defcent  of  iEneas  into  hell  doth  not  advance 
fior  retard  the  cataftrophe,  and   therefore  is  an  epif- 
ode.    The  (lory  of  Nifus  and  Euryalus,  producing 
an  alteration  in  the  affairs  of  the  contending  parties, 
is  a  part  of  the  principal  adion.     The    family  fcene 
in  the  fixth  book  of  the  Iliad  is  of  the  fame  nature  ; 
for  by  Hedor's  retiring  from   the  field  of  battle  to 
vifit  his  v/ife,the  Grecians  had  opportunity  to  breathe, 
and  even  to   turn  upon  the  Trojans.     The  unavoid- 
able efFed   of   an  epifode,    according  to   this  defini- 
tion, muft   be,  to    break   the   unity  of  adion  ;  and 
therefore  it  ought  never    to  be  indulged,    unlefs  to 
unbend  the  mind  after   the  fatigue  of  a  long  narra 
tion.   '  An   epifode,    when  fuch    is  its    purpofe,  re- "^^ 
quires  the  following  conditions  :  it  ought^  to  be  well  i 
conneded   with  the  principal  adion  :  it  ought  to  be  ^ 
lively  and  interePdng  :  it  ought  to  be  fliort  :  and  a  5 
time  ought   to  be  chofen   when  the  principal  adion  Ia 
relents.* 

In  the  following  beautiful  epifode,  v/hich  clofes 
the  fecond  book  of  Fingal,  all  thefe  conditions  are 
united, 

Comal 


*  Homer's  Hefcription  of  ihe  fliield  of  Achilles  is  properly  introduc- 
ed at  a  tiii.c  when  the  aclion  relcnti,  and  the  reader  can  bear  an  inter- 
ruption. But  the  author  of  1'clemachus  defcrihes  the  fliield  of  that 
youn^  hero  in  the  heat  of  battle  :  a  very  improper  time  for  an  Inter- 
ruption. 

U4 


31^  Epic  and  Dramatic  Ch.  XXII. 

Comal  was  a  fon  of  Albion  ;  the  chief  of  an  hundred 
hills.  His  deer  drank  of  a  thoufand  ftreams  ;  and  a  thou- 
fand  rocks  replied  to  the  voice  of  his  dogs.  His  face  was 
the  mildnefs  of  youth  ;  but  his  hand  the  death  of  heroes. 
One  was  his  love,  and  fair  was  (he !  the  daughter  of 
iiiighiy  Conloch.  She  appeared  like  a  fun-beam  among 
women,  and  her  hair  was  like  the  wing  of  the  raven.  Her 
foul  was  fixed  on  Comal,  and  (he  was  his  companion  in 
the  chace.  Often  met  their  eyes  of  love,  and  happy  were 
their  v.^ords  in  <iecret.  But  Gcrmal  loved  the  maid,  the 
chief  of  gloomy  •:^rdyen.  He  watched  her  lone  fteps  on 
the  heath,  the  foe  ofunhappy  Comal. 

One  day  tired  of  tSc;-  chace,  when  the  mifl  had  conceal- 
ed their  iricnds,  Conia^^  -and  the  daughter  of  Conloch  n)et 
in  the  cave  of  Ronan.  It  was  the  wonted  haunt  of  Coma!. 
Its' fides  were  hung  with  his  arms  ;  a  hundred  Ihields  of 
thongs  were  there,  a  hundred  helm.s  of  founding  fteel.  Reit 
here,  faid  he,-  my  love  Galvina,  thou  light  of  the  cave  of 
Ronan:  a  depr  appears  on  Mora'?  brow  \  I  go,  but  fooa 
Vv'ill  return.  I  fear,  faid  (lie,  dark  Gorrnal  my  foe  :  I 
V\'}\\  re({  here  :   but  foon  return,  my  love. 

Pie  went  to  the  deer  of  Mora.  The  daughter  of  Con- 
loch, to  try  his  love,  clothed  her  vvliite  iide  with  liis  ar- 
mour, and  (Irode  from  the  cave  of  Ronan.  Thinking 
her  his  toe,  his  heart  beat  high,  and  his  colour  changed. 
: '  He  drevv^  the  bov*^ :  the  arrow  flew  :  Galvina  fell  in  blood. 
He'ran  to  the  cave  with  hally  flepSi  and  called  the  daugh- 
ter of  Conloch.     Where   art   thou,  my  love  ?  but  no  an- 

fwer ■ — He  marked,  at   length,   her  heaving  heart 

beating  againfl  the  mortal  arrow.      O  Conloch's  daughter, 
is  it  thou  !   he  funk  upon  her  bread. 

The  hunters  found  the  haplefs  pair.  Many  and  filent 
were  liis  fteps  round  the  dark  dwelling  of  his  love.  ^  Th.e 
fleet  of  the  ocean  caine  :  he  fought,  and  the  ftrangers  fell  : 
he  fearched  for  death  over  the  held  ;  but  who  could  kill 
the  mighty  Comal  ?  Throwing  away  his  ftiield,  an  arrow 
found  his  manly  bread:.  He  deeps  with  his  Galvina : 
their  green  tombs  are  fecn  by  the  mariner,  when  he  bounds 
en  the  v/aves  of  the  north. 

^.f^JwjIijW  Next,  upon  the  peculiarities  of  a  dramatic  poem. 
r,a.fl[)vt*.JSnd  the  firll  I  lliali  mention  is  a  double  plot  5  one 


Cii.  XXII,  €!ompofiticm.  %^% 

of  which  mufl  refemble  an  epifode  in  an  epic  pcem  ;  I  iJ/^]u^ 
for  it  would  diftrad  the  fpeftator,  inftead  of  enter-  [    ^(^^4- 
taining  him,  if  he  were  forc'd  to  attend,  at  the  fame  I         ^ 
time,  to  two  capital  plots  equally  interefting.     And  f 
even  filppofing  it  an  under-plot   like  an  epifode,  it  j 
feldom  hath  a  good  effed  in  tragedy,  of  which  fim-^ 
piicity  is  a  chief  property  ;  for   an  interefting  fubje6t 
that   engages   our  afl'eclions,  occupies  our  whole  at- 
tention, and  leaves  no   room  for  any  feparate  con-    /?     n  j[ 
cern.*     "Variety  is  more  tolerable  in  comedy,  which    •Mtyi^^'^ 
pretends    only    to    amufe,    widiout    totally     occu-r>^^j^><-"^ 
pying  the  mind.     But  even  there,  to  make  a  dcubleM^€/U  l 
plot  agreeable,  is  no  flight  effort  of  art :  the  under-  ^^ 
plot  ought   not  to  vary  greatly  in  its  tone  from  the       ' 
principal  ;  for    difcordant  emotions  are  unpleafant  j  ^.       ^ 
when  jumbled  together  ;  which,  by  the  way,  is  an  /  *^\^  t-^ 
infuperable  objection  to   tragi-comedy.     Upon  that  /  -^^-t^c^ 
account,  the  Provok'd  Hnjband  delerves  cenfure  :  (f^vjLjof-i 

all     -^'f^^tuj 

*  Pv3cine,  in  Tils  preface  to  the   tragedy  of  Eerenicr,  is  fenfible   th?)t-.  / 

Simplicity  is  a  great  beauty  in  tragedy,  but  miflakes  the  caufe.  ♦'  Noth- 
ing iTayshe)  but  veiifimilitude  pieafes  in  tragedy  :  but  where  is  the  vcr^ 
ifimilitude,  that  within  tiie  compaTs  of  a  day,  events  fliould  be  crowded 
which  commonly  are  ex-tended  through  months  ?"  This  is  miliakin;^  '.he 
accuracy  of  imitation  for  the  probr.bility  or  improbability  of  future 
events.  I  explain  mylelf.  The  verifimilitude  required  in  tr.ngcdy  is, 
that  the  aftions  correfpond  to  the  manners,  and  the  manners  to  natuie. 
When  this  rcfemblance  is  preferved,  the  imitation  is  juR,  becaufe  it  is, 
a  true  copy  of  nature.  But  I  deny  that  the  verifimilitude  of  future  events, 
meaning   the    pobabilify  of  future    events,    is  any   rule  in    tragedy.     A  ' 

number  of  extraordinary  events,  are,  it  is  true,  feldom  crowded  with- 
in the  ccmpafs  of  a  day  :  but  what  feldom  happens  may  happen  ; 
and  when  fuch  events  fall  out,  they  appear  no  lefs  natural  than 
the  moR  oidinary  accidents.  To  make  VL-rilimilitude  in  the  fenfe  of 
probability  a  governing  rule  in  tragedy,  would  anniiihte  that  fort  of 
writing  altogether;  for  it  would  exclude  all  cxtrauidinary  events,  in 
which  the  life  of  tragedy  confills.  It  is  very  improbable  or  unlikely, 
pitching  upon  any  man  at  random,  that  he  will  facrifice  his  life  and  for- 
tune for  his  miftxefs  or  for  his  country  :  yet  when  that  event  happens, 
fuppofing  it  conformable  to  the  charaQcr,  we  recognife  the  verifimili- 
tude as  to  nature,  whatever  want  of  verifimilitude  or  of  probability  there 
was  a  priori  that  fuch  would  be  the  event. 


,H 


Epic  and  Dramatic 


Ch.XXII. 


all  the  fcenes  that  bring  the  family  of  the  Wrong- 
heads  into  adion,  being  ludicrous  and  farcical  are  in 
a  very  different  tone  from  the  principal  fcenes,  dif- 
playing  fevere  and  bitter  expoftulations  between 
Lord  Townley  and  his  lady.  The  fame  objeftion 
touches  not  the  double  plot  of  the  Carelefs  hujband  ; 
the  differe||t  Hibjeds  being  fweetly  connecled,  and 
having  onlyii|)  much  variety  as  to  refemble  fhades  of 
colours  harniVnioufly  mixed.  But  this  is  not  all. 
The  under-plot  ought  to  be  connected  with  that 
which  is  principal^,  fo  much  at  leaft  as  to  employ 
the  fame  perfons :  '^e  under-plot  ought  to  occupy  the 
intervals  or  paufes  of  the  principal  action  ;  and  both 
ought  to  be  concluded  together.  This  is  the  cafe  of 
the  Merry  Wives  of  Wind/or. 

Violent  action  ought  never  to  be  reprefented  on 
the  flage.  While  the  dialogue  goes  on,  a  thoufand 
particulars  concur  to  delude  us  into  an  impreffion  of 
reality  ;  genuine  fentiments,  paffionate  language,  and 

t^perfuafive  gefture  :  the  fpedator  once   engaged,  is 
iUing  to  be  deceived,  lofes  fight  of  himfelf,   and 
without   fcruple    enjoys   the   fpeftacle  as   a   reality, 
*7^rom  this  abfent  flate,  he  is  roufed  by  violent  aftion, 

.  he  awakes  as  from  a  pleafing  dream,  and  gathering 
■his  fenfes  about  him,  finds  all  to  be  a  fidlion,     Ho- 
race delivers   the  fame  rule,  and  founds  it  upon  the 
■    fame  reafon  : 

Ne  pueros  coram  populo  Medea  tnicidet  ; 
Aut  humana  palaui  coqu-ar  exta  nefarius  Atreus  ; 
Aut  in  avcm  Pr(n!,ne  vertatur,  Cadmus  in  agnem  : 
Q^iodcumque  oflendis  mihi  fie,  ip.credulus  odi. 

The  French  critics  join  with  Horace  in  excluding 
blood  from  the  (cage  ;  but  overlooking  the  m.ofl  fub- 
itantial  objection,  they  urge  only,  that  it  is  bnrbarous, 
and  fhcK:king  to  a  polite  audience.     The  Greeks  had 

no 


'm 


-Ch.  XXII.  Compofitiom.  315 

no  notion  of  fuch  delicacy,  or  rather  effeminncy  : 
witnefs  the  murder  of  Clytemnellra  by  her  fon  Oref- 
tes,  pafling  behind  the  fcene  as  reprefented  by  Soph- 
ocles :  '  her  voice  is  heard  calling  out  for  mercy, 
bitter  expoftulations  on  his  part,  loud  fhrieks  upon 
her  being  llabb'd,  and  then  a  deep  filence.  I  appeal 
to  every  perfon  of  feeling,  whether  this  fcene  be  not 
niore  horrible  than  if  the  deed  had  been  committed 
in  fight  of  the  fpeftators  upon  a  fudden  gufl  of  paf- 
fion.  If  Corneille,  in  reprefenting'the  aftair  between 
Horatius  and  his  filler,  upon  which  murder  enfues 
behind  the  fcene,  had  no  other  view  but  to  remove 
from  the  fpedators  a  Ihocking  aftion,  he  was  guilty 
of  a  capital  miilake  :  for  murder  in  cold  blood, 
which  in  fome  meafure  was  the  cafe  as  reprefented,  is 
more  fhocking  to  a  polite  audience,  even  where  the 
conclufive  (tab  is  not  feen,  than  the  fame  aft  perform- 
ed in  their  prefence  by  violent  and  unpremeditated 
paffion,  as  fuddenly  repented  of  as  committed.  I 
heartily  agree  with  Addifon,*  that  no  part  of  this  in- 
cident ought  to  have  been  reprefented,  But  referved 
for  a  narrative,  with  every  alleviating  circumflance  in 
favour  of  the  hero.  ^    *■  / 

A  few  woids  upon  the  dialogue ;  which  ought  toTZ^'^^J 
be  fo  conduced  as  to  be  a  true  reprefentation  of  n?,-h^"^j^~ 
ture.     I  talk  not  here  of  the  fentiments,  nor  of  xht^^jy^^^ 
language  ;  for  thefe  come   under  diiFerent  heads  :  I  ^^^^^r^t 
talk  of  what   properly  belongs  to  dialogue- vvriting  :'4is-i^c>^ 
where  every  fmgle  fpeech,  fhort  or   long,   ought   Xo'i^.^.^^j^ 
arife  from   what  is   faid  by  the  former  Ipeaker,  and 
furnifh  matter  for  what  comes  after,  till  the   end  of 
the  fcene.  In  this  view,  all  the  fpeeches,  from  firit  to 
lail,  reprefcnr  fo  many  links  of  one  continued  chain. 
No  author,  ancient  or  modern,  poflefi'es  the  art  of  di- 
alogue equal  to  Shakefpear.  Dry  den,  in  that  partlcu- 
«  iar, 

*  Spcflator,  No.  ^4. 


0i.ti 


l<c^t.i'X 


516  Epic  and  Dramatic  Ch.  XXIt; 

hr,  may  juftly  be  placed  as  his  oppofite  :  he  fre- 
quently introduces  three  or  four  perfons  fpeaking  up- 
on the  fame  fubjeci:,  each  throwing  out  his  own  no- 
tions fepa^ately,  without  regarding  what  is  faid  by  the 
reft  :  take  "for  an  example  the  fir-it  fcene  of  Jtfren- 
zebe.  Soraetinies  he  makes  a  number  club  in  relat- 
ing an  event),  not  to  a  fcranger,  fuppofed  ignorant  of 
it ;  but  to  one  another,  for  the  fake  merely  of  fpeak- 
ing :  of  which  notable  fort  of  dialogue,  we  have  a 
fpecimen  in  the  firfl  fcene  of  the  firfl  part  of  the 
Conqiiejl  cf  Granada.  In  the  fecond  part  of  the 
fame  tragedy,  fcene  fecond,  the  King,  Abenaniar, 
and  Zulema,  make  their  feparate  obfervations,  like 
fo  many  foiiioquies,  upon  the  fluftuatin^  temper  of 
the  mob.  A  dialogue  fo  uncouth,  puts  one  in  mind 
of  two  fhepherds  in  a  pafloral,  excited  by  a  prize  to 
pronounce  verfes  alternately,  each  in  praife  of  hii, 
own  millrefs. 

This  manner  of  dialogue-writing,  befide  an  un- 
natural air,  has  another  bad  effedt :  it  ftays  the  courfe 
of  the  aftion,  becaufe  it  is  not  productive  of  any  con- 
fequence.  In  Congreye's  comedies,  the  aftion  is  often 
fufpended  to  make  way  for  a  play  of  wit.  But  of 
this  more  particularly  in  the  chapter  immediately  fol- 
lowing-. 
/     No  fault  is  more  common  among  writers,  than  to 


Ai^' 


prolong  a  fpeech  after  the  impatience  of  the  perfoa 
to  whom  it  is  addrefied  ought  to  prompt  him  or  her 
to  break  in.     Confider  only  how  the  impatient  actor 
'^x-^m^i^  to  behave  in  the  mean  time.     To  exprefs  his  impa- 
jj^       '  tience  in  violent  action  without  interrupting,   would 
be  unnatural  ;  and  yet  to  diiTemblc  his  impatience, 
by  appearing  cool  whej^;e  he  ought  to  be  highly  in- 
flamed, would  be  no  l^s  fo. 
,         I       Rhyme  being  unnatural  and  difguftful  in  dialogue, 
II',      \  is  happily   baniihed   from   our   th^tre  :  the   only 


Vi  7^  / 


Ch.  XXII. 


Compofitions* 


317 


wonder  is  that  it  ever  found  admittance,  efpecially 
among  a  people  accuftomed  to  the  more  manly  free- 
dom of  Shakefpear's  dialogue.  By  baniihing  rhyme, 
vve  have  gained  fo  much,  as  never  once  to  dream  of 
any  further  improvement.  And  yet,  however  fuita- 
ble  blank  verfe  may  be  to  elevated  charafteis  and 
warm  paffions,  it  mufl  appear  improper  and  aftecled 
in  the  mouths  of  the  lower  fort.  Why  then  fliould 
it  be  a  rule.  That  every  fcene  in  tragedy  mufl  be  in 
blank  verfe  ?  Shakefpear,  with  great  judgment,  has 
followed  a  different  rule  ;  which  is,  to  interm.ix  profe 
with  verfe,  and  only  to  employ  the  latter  where  it  is 
required  by  the  importance  or  dignity  of  the  fubjeQ:. 
Familiar  th*oughts  and  ordinary  fads  ought  to  be/7^>v^^:ir 
expreffed  in  plain  language  :  to  hear,  for  example, 
a  footman  deliver  a  fmiple  meffage  in  blank  verfe, 
mufl  appear  ridiculous  to  every  one  who  is  not  bialfed 
by  cullom.  In  fhort,  that  variety  of  characters  and 
of  fituations,  which  is  the  life  of  a  play,  requires  not 
only  a  fuitable  variety  in  the  fentiments,  but  alfo  in 
the  didion. 


K 


/V'i/J   (~'. 


CHAP. 


CHAP.  XXIII. 

The  Three  Unities. 


I 


.N  the  firft  chapter  is  explained  the  pleafure 
we  have  in  a  chain  of  conne6ted  fads.  In  hiftories 
of  the  world,  of  a  country,  of  a  people,  this  pleafure 
is  faint  ;  becaufe  the  connexions  are  flight  or  ob- 
fcure.  We  find  more  entertaiment  in  biography  ; 
becaufe  the  incidents  are  connected  by  their  relation 
to  a  perfon  who  makes  a  figure,  and  commands  our 
attention.  .But  the  greatefl  entertainment  is  in  the 
hiftory  of  a  fingle  event,  fuppofing  it  interefliing  ; 
and  the  reafon  is,  that  the  fadts  and  circumllances 
are  conneded  by  the  flrongeft  of  all  relations,  that 
of  caufe  and  effect  :  a  number  of  fads  that  give 
birth  to  each  other  form  a  delightful  train  ;  and  we 
have  great  mental  enjoyment  in  our  progrefs  from 
the  beginning  to  the  end. 

But  this  fubjed  merits  a  more  particular  difcuf- 
fion-.*  When  we  confider  the  chain  of  caufes  and 
effects  in  the  material  world,  independent  of  pur- 
pofe,  defign,  or  thought,  we  find  a  number  of  inci- 
dents in  fuccefTion,  without  beginning,  middle  or 
'end  :  every  thing  that  happens  is  both  a  caufe  and 
an  effecl  ;  being  the  effect  of  what  goes  before,  and 
the  caufe  of  what  follows  :  one  incident  may  affect 
ns  more,  another  lefs  ;  but  all  of  them  are  links  in 
the  univerfal  chain  :  the  mJnd,  in  viewing  thefe  inci- 
dents, cannot  reft  or  fettle  ultimately  upon  any  one  \ 
but  is  carried  along  in  the  train  without  any  clofe. 

But  when  the  intellectual  world  is  taken  under 
view,  in  conjundion  with  the  material,  the  fcene  is 
varied.     Man  afts  with  deliberation,  will,  and  choice  : 

be 


tJH.  SXIIL  The  Three  Unities,  319 

he  aims  at  fome  end,  glory,  for  example, ^  or  riches^ 

or  conqueft,  the  procuring  happinefs  to  individualsj 

or  to  his  country  in  general :  he  propofes  means,  and 

lays   plans   to  attain  the  end  purpofed.     Here  are  a 

number  of  fadls  or  incidents,  Meading  to  the  end  in 

view,  the  whole  compofmg  one  chain  by  the  relation 

of  caufe  and  effect.     In  running;  over  a  feries  of  fuch*^  f)    ^  ' 

faces  or  mcidents,  we  cannot  relt  upon  any  one  ;  be-  /  "  /      , 

qaufe  they  are  prefented  to  us  as  means  only,  \Q2.d\ngi,//^^J(U 

to  fome  end  :  but  we  reft  with  fatisfadion  upon  the  \   Qji^ 

end  or  ultimate  event  ;  becaufe  there  the  purpofe  or    Vy^ 

aim  of  the  chief  perfon  or  peifons  is  accomplifhed.    /  Y''^^' 

This  indicates   the  beginning,   the  middle,  and  they 

end,  of  what  Ariftotle  calls   an  entire  adion.*     The 

ftory  naturally  begins  with  defcribing  thofe  circum- 

ftanc'es  which  move  the  principal  perfon  to  form  a 

plan,  in  order  to  compafs  fome  defired  event  :  the 

profecution  of  that  plan  and  the  obftru£tions,  carry 

the    reader   into  the   heat  of  acdon  :  the  middle  is 

properly  where  the  aftion  is  the  moft  involved  ;  and 

the  end  is  where  the  event  is"  brought  about-  and  the 

plan  accomplifhed. 

A   plan   thus  happily  accompliflied  after   many 
obilruQions,  affords  wonderful  delight  to  the  reader  ; 
to  produce  which,    a  principle   mentioned   above  f  , 
mainly   contributes,  'the  fame  that  difpofes  the  mind  | 
to  complete  every  work  commenced,  and  in  general/ 
to  carry  every  thing  to  a  conclufion. 

I  have  given  the  foregoing  example  of  a  plan 
crowned  with  fuccefs,  becaufe  it  affords  the  clearefl 
conception  of  a  beginning,  a  middle,  and  an  end,  iu 
which  confifts  unity  of  a£tion  ;  and  indeed  ftrifler 
unity  cannot  be  imagined  than  in  that  cafe.#  But  an 
aclion  may  have  unity,  or  a  beginning,  middle,  and 
end,  without   fo  intimate   a  relation  of  parts  ;  as 

where 

*^  Poet,  np:  G.     See  alfo  cap.  7.  ^  Cl'.ip.  8, 


«".^' 


32a  The  Three  Vnltks.  Ch.  XXIIL 

where  the  cataftrophe  is  different  from  what  is  in- 
tended or  defired,  which  frequently  happens  in  our 
beft  tragedies.  In  the  Mneid,  the  hero,  after  many 
obilru(Slions,  makes  his  plan  effectual.  The ///Wis 
formed  upon  a  diifcrent  model  :  It  begins  with  the 
quarrel  between  Achilles  and  Agamemnon ;  goes 
on  to  defcribe  the  feveral  efieds  produced  by  that 
caufe  ;  and  ends  in  a  reconcihation.  Here  is  unity 
of  a£tion,  no  doubt,  a  beginning,  a  middle,  and  an 
end  ;  but  inferior  to  that  of  the  JEneid^  which  will 
thus  appear.  The  mind  hath  a  propenfity  to  go 
forward  in  the  chain  of  hiftory  :  it  keeps  always  in 
view  the  expeded  event ;  and  when  the  incidents  or 
under-parts  are  connected  by  their  relation  to  the 
t,sf^A\.^  the  mind  runs  fweetly  and  eafily  along  them. 

This  pleafure  we  have  in  the  JEneid,  It  is  not 
altogether  fo  pleafant,  as  in  the  Iliad,  to  conned  ef- 
fe6ls  by  their  common  caufe  ;  for  fuch  connexion 
forces  the  mind  to  a  continual  retrofpeS:  :  looking 
back  is  hke-  walking  backward. 

Homer's  plan  is  flill  more  defective  upon  another 
account.  That  the  events  defcribed  are  but  imper- 
fe£lly  connected  with  the  wrath  of  Achilles,  their 
caufe  :  his  wrath  did  not  exert  itfelf  in  adion  ;  and 
the  misfortunes  of  his  countrymen  were  but  nega- 
tively the  effeds  of  his  wrath,  by  depriving  them  of 
his  affiftance. 

If  unity  of  adion  be  a  capital  beauty  in  a  fable 
imitative  of  human  affairs,  a  plurality  of  unconneft- 
ed  fables  muft  be  a  capital  deformity.  For  the  fake 
of  variety,  we  indulge  an  under-plot  that  is  conneft- 
ed  with  the  principal  :  but  two  unconnefted  events 
are  extremely  unpleafant,  even  where  the  fame  ac- 
tors are  engaged  in  both.  Ariofto  is  quite  licentious 
in  that  particular  :  he  carries  on  at  the  fame  time  a 
pluraUty  of  unconneded  ftories.     Kis  only  excufc 


C!h.  XXIII.  The  Three  Unitks,  521 

i«,  that  his  plan  is  perfe6lly  well  adjufted  to  his  fub- 
jecl ;  for  every  thing  in  the  Orlando  Furiofo  is  wild 
and  extravagant. 

Though  to  (late    fads  in  the  order  of  time  is  nat- 
ural, yet   that  order   may  be  varied  for  the  fake  of  j 
confpicuous    beauties.*     If,  for    example,  a   noted  1 
flory,  cold  and  fnnple  in  its  firft  movements,  be  made 
the  fubject  of  an  epic  poem,  the  reader  may  be  hur- 
ried into  the   heat  of  adion  :  referving  the  prehmi-i 
naries  for  a  converfation-piece,  if  thought  neceifary  ;' 
and  that  method,  at  the   fame  time,  hath  a  peculiar 
beauty  from  being  dramatic.f     But  a  privilege  that  J 
deviates  from  nature  ought  to  be  fparingly  indulged  ;/ 
and  yet  romance-writers    make  no  difficulty  of  pre- 
fenting  to  the  reader,  without  the  leaft  preparation, 
unknown   perfons    engaged  in  fome  arduous  adven- 
ture equally    unknown.     In  Cajfandra^  two  perfon- 
ages,  who  afterward  are  difcovered  to  be  the  heroes  of 
the  fable,  ftart  up  completely  armed  upon  the  banks 
of  the  Euphrates,    and  engage  in  a  fmgle  combat.]; 

A  play  analyfed,  is  a  chain  of  connected  fatls,| 
of  which  each  fcene  makes  a  link.  Each  fcene,  ac- 
cordingly, ought  to  produce  fome  incident  relative  to, 
the  cataftrophe  or  ultimate  event,  by  advancing  or 
retarding  it.  A  fcene  that  produceth  no  incident, 
and  for  that  reafon  may  be  terrned  barren,  ought  not 
to  be  indulged,  becaufe  it  breaks  the  unity  of  aflion  : 
a  barren  fcene  can  never  be  intitled  to  a  place,  be- 
caufe the  chain  is  complete  without  it.     In  the  Old 

Bachelor, 

*  See  chap,  t,  +  See  chap.  21. 

:J:  I  am  fenfible  that  a  comrnencement  of  this  fort  is  much  relifhed  by 
readers  difpofed  to  the  marveUous.  Their  curiolity  is  raifed,  and  ihey- 
are  much  tickled  in  its  gratification.  But  curiofity  is  at  an  end  with  the 
fiift  readmt^,  btcaufe  the  perfunages  are  no  lonoer  unknown;  and  there- 
fore at  the  fe<:nnd  readirg,  a  commencement  fo  artificial  lofes  its  powes 
sven  over  the  vulgar.     A  writer  of  genius  prefers  lalling  beauties-i 

Vol.  IL  W 


322  The  Three  Unities,  Ch.  XXIIF. 

Bachelor,  the  3d  fcene  of  a£l  2.  and  all  that  follow 
to  the  end  of  that  aft,  are  mere  converfation-pieces, 
produdive  of  no  confequence.  The  i  oth  and  1 1  th 
Scenes,  act  t^.  Double  Dealer,  the  loth,  nth,  12th, 
■13th,  and  14th  fcenes,  aft  i.  Love  for  Love,  are  of 
the  fame  kind.  Neither  is  The  way  of  the  World  en- 
tirely guiltlefs  of  fuch  fcenes.  It  will  be  no  juftification,. 
that  they  help  to  difplay  charafters  :  it  were  better, 
like  Dryden,  in  his  dramatis  perfoncc,  to  defcribe  char- 
afters beforehand,  which  would  not  break  the  chaia 
of  aftion.  But  a  writer  of  genius  has  no  occafion  for 
fuch  artifice  :  he  can  difplay  the  charafters  of  his 
perfonages  much  more  to  the  life  in  fentiment  and 
aftion.  How  fuccefsfully  is  this  done  by  Shake- 
fpear  !  in  whofe  works  there  is  not  to  be  found  a  fin- 
gle  barren  fcene. 

Upon  the  whole,  it  appears,  that  all  the  fafts  In 
an  hillorical  fable,  ought  to  have  a  mutual  conneftion^ 
by  their  common  relation  to  the  grand  event  or  ca- 
taftrophe,  and  this  relation,  in  which  the  unity  of  ac- 
.tion  confifl:s,  is  equally  effential  to  epic  and  dramatic 
compofitions. 

C  In  handling  unity  of  aftion,  it  ought  not  to  efcape 
'  obfervation,  that  the  mind  is  fadsfied  with  flighter 
unity  in  a  pifture  than  in  a  poem  ;  becaufe  the  per- 
ceptions  of  the  former  are  more  lively  than  the 
ideas  of  the  latter.  In  Hogarth's  Enraged  Muftcran,. 
we  have  a  colleftion  of  every  grating  found  in  na- 
ture, without  any  mutual  conneftion  except  that  of 
place.  But  the  horror  they  give  to  the  dehcate  ear 
of  an  Italian  fidler,  who  is  reprefented  almoft  in  con- 
vulfions,  beflows  unity  upon  the  piece,  with  which 
the  mind  is  fatisfied. 

f  How  far  the  unities  of  time  and  of  place  are  ef- 
Ifential,  is  a  queftion  of  greater  intricacy.^Thefe  uni- 
ties were  ftriftly  obfcrved  in  the  Greek  and  Roman 

theatres ; 


fcn,  XXIir.         The  Three  Vmt'ies,  323 

theatres :  and  they  are  inculcated  by  the  French 
and  Englifh  critics,  as  elTential  to  every  dramatic 
compofition.  They  are  alfo  acknowledged  by  our 
bed  poets,  though  in  pra£tice  they  make  frequent 
deviation,  which  they  pretend  not  to  juftify,  againft 
the  practice  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  and  againft 
the  folemn  decifion  of  their  own  countrymen-  But 
in  the  coui  fe  of  this  inquiry  it  will  be  made  evident, 
that  in  this  article  we  are  under  no  neceUity  to  copy 
the  ancients  ;  and  that  our  critics  are  guilty  of  a 
miftake,  in  admitting  no  greater  latitude  of  place  and 
time  than  was  admitted  in  Greece  and  Rome. 

Suffer  me  only  to  premife,  that  the  unities  of  place  | 
and  time,  are  not  by  the  moft  rigid  critics  required  in  / 
a  narrative  poem.   In  fuch  a  compofition,  if  it  pretend  j 
to  copy  nature,  thefe  unities  would  be  abfurd  ;  be-lj 
caufe  real  events  are  feldom  confined  within  narrow 
limits  either  of  place  or  of  time.  And  yet  we  can  follow 
hiftory,  or  an  hiftorical  fable,  through  all  its  changes 
with  the  greateft  facility  :  we  never  once  think  of 
meafuring  the  real  time  by  wh?it  is  taken  in  reading ; 
nor  of  forming  any  connexion  between  the  place  of 
action  and  that  which  we  occupy. 

I  am  fenfible,  that  the  drama  differs  fo  far  from 
the  epic,  as  to  admit  different  rules.  It  will  be  ob- 
ferved,  "  That  an  hiftorical  fable,  intended  for  read-i 
ing  folely,  is  under  no  limitation  of  time  nor  of  place, 
more  than  a  genuine  hiftory  ;  but  that  a  dramatic 
compofition  cannot  be  accurately  reprefented,  unlefs 
it  be  limited,  as  its  reprefentadon  is,  to  one  place  and 
to  a  few  hours  ;  and  therefore  that  it  can  admit  no 
fable  but  what  has  thefe  properties :  becaufe  it  would 
be  abfurd  to  compofe  a  piece  for  reprefentation  that 
cannot  be  juftly  reprefented."  This  argujnent,  I  ac- 
knowledge, has  at  leaft  a  plaufible  appearance  ;  and 

yet 


324  The  Three  Unities.  Cn.  XXIll 

yet  one  is  apt  to  fufpe6b  fome  fallacy,  confidering  thai! 
no  criticv  however  ftrid:,  has  ventured  to  confine 
the  unities  of  place  and  of  time  within  fo  narrow 
bounds.* 

A  view  of  the  Grecian  drama,  compared  with  our 
OWL,  may  perhaps  relieve  us  from  this  dilemma  :  if 
tl'cybe  oiiferently  conftructed  asfliali  be  made  evident, 
it  is  pollible  that  the  foregoing  reafoning  may  not  be 
equally  applicable  to  both.  This  is  an  article  that, 
V  ith  rehiiiion  to  the  prcfcnt  iubjett,  has  net  been  ex- 
amined by  any  writer. 

AH  authors  agree,  that  tr:igedy  in  Greece  was 
derivfd  from  the  hymns  in  pi  aife  of  Bacchus,  which 
were  fungin  partsby  a  chorus.\  Thefpis  to  relieve 
the  fingers,  and  for  the  fake  of  variety,  introduced 
die  aclor  ;  whofe  province  it  was  to  explain  hiftor- 
ically  the  fubjed  of  the  fong,  and  who  occafionally 
reprefented  one  or  other  perfonage..  Efchylus,  in- 
troducirig  a  fecond  ador,  formed  the  dialogue,  by 
which  the  performance  became  dramatic  ;  and  the 
actors  were  mulripiied  when  the  fubjeft  reprefented 
made  it  neceflaiy.  But  ftill,  the  chorus,  which  gave 
a  beginning  to  tragedy,  was  confidered  as  an  eifential 
part.  The  firfl  fcene,  generally  unfolds  the  prelim- 
inary circumflances  that  lead  to  the  grand  event  ::, 
and  this  fccne  is  by  Arillotie  termed  the  prologue. 
In  the  fecond  fcene,  where  the  action  properly  begins, 
the  chorus  is  introduced,  which,  as  originally,  con- 
tinues upon  the  ftage  during  tne  whole  performance  : 
the  chorus  frequently  makes  one  in  the  dialogue  ^ 

and 

*  BofTii,  after  obferving  with  wohderous  critical  ragacity,  that  winter  is 
an  iiiipiopcT  feafon  for  an  epic  poem,  and  night  no  iefs  improper  for 
tragedy;  admits  however,  that  an  epic  poem  may  be  fpiead  tiircugh 
the  whdle  fiimmer  months,  and  a  rrapedy  through  the  whole  funfhinc 
hours  of  the  longeft  fummer-day.  Dit  pae?n  epiquc,  I.  o^.  Chap.  12.  At 
that  rate  an  Englifli  tragedy  moy  be  longer  than  a  French  tragedy  ;  and 
in  Nova  Zeuibla  the  time  of  a  tragedy  and  of  an  epic  poem  may  be  tha 
fames 


€h.  XXIII.  The  Three  Unities.  32^ 

and  when  the  dialogue  happens  to  be  fufpended,  the 
chorus,  during  the  interval,  is  employ'd  in  fmging. 
Sophocles  adheres  to  this  plan  religiouliy.  Euripi- 
des is  not  altogether  fo  correft.  In  fome  of  his 
pieces,  it  becomes  neceilary  to  remove  the  chorus  for 
a  little  time.  But  when  l;hat  unufual  ifep  is  rifked, 
matters  are  fo  ordered  ^s  not  to  interrupt  the  repre- 
fentaticn  :  the  chorus  never  leave  the  ftage  of  their 
own  accoi'd,  but  at  the  command  of  fome  principal 
perfonage,  who  conftantly  waits  their  return. 

Thus  the  Grecian  drama  is  a  conrinued  reprefen- 
tation  without  interruption  ;  a  circumftance  that 
merits  attention.  A  continued  reprefentation  with- 
out a  paufe,  affords  not  opportunity  to  vary  the 
place  of  action,  nor  to  prolong  the  time  of  the  a(?:ion. 
beyond  that  of  the  reprefentation.  To  a  reprefenta- 
tion fo  confined  in  place  and  time,  the  foregoing  rea- 
foning  is  ftridly  applicable  :  -a  real  or  feigned  aftion 
that  is  brought  to  a  eonclufion  after  confideiable  in- 
tervals of  time  and  frequent  changes  of  place,  cannot 
accurately  be  copied  in  a  reprefentation  that  admits 
no  latitude  in  either.  Hence  it  is,  that  the  unities  of 
place  and  of  time,  were,  or  ought  to  have  been, 
itriftly  obferved  in  the  Greek  tragedies  ;  which  is 
made  neceffary  by  the  very  constitution  of  their 
drama,  for  it  is  abfurd  to  compofe  a  tragedy  that  can= 
not  be  juiUy  reprefented. 

Modern  critics,  who  for  our  drama  pretend  to 
eftablifh  rules  founded  on  the  pradice  of  the  Greeks, 
are  guilty  of  an  egregious  blunder.  The  unities  of 
place  and  of  time  were  in  Greece,  as  we  fee,  a  mat- 
ter of  neceffity,  not  of  choice  ;  and  I  am  nov/  ready 
to  iliow,  that  if  we  fubmit  to  fuch  fetters,  it  muft  be 
from  choice,  not  neceffity.  This  will  be  evident  upj 
pn  taking  a  view  of  the  conftitution  of  our  drama, 
■isyhich  differs  widely  from  that  of  Greece  ;  whethei; 
W  3  more    ' 


326  ^he  Three  Unities.         Ch.  XXKL 

more  or  lefs  perfeft,  is  a  different  point,  to  be  hand- 
led  afterward.    By  dropping  the  chorus,  opportunity 
is  afforded  to  divide  the  reprefentation  by  intervals 
of  time,  during  which  the  ilage  is  evacuated  and  the 
fpeftacle  fufpended.     This  quahfies  our  drama  for 
fubjecls  fpread  through  a  wide  fpace  both  of  time  and 
of  place  :  the  time  fuppofed  to,  pafs  during  the  fufpen- 
fion  of  the  reprefentation,  is  not  meafured  by  the 
time  of  the  fufpenfion  ;  and  any  place  may  be  fup- 
^  pofed  when  the  reprefentation  is  renewed,  with  as 
much  facility  as  when  it  commenced  :    by   which 
means,  many  fubjecls  can  be  juftiy  reprefented  in  our 
theatres,  that  were  excluded  from  thofe  of  ancient 
Greece.     This  doctrine  may  be  illuftrated,  by  com- 
paring a  modern  play  to  a  fet  of  hiftorical  pictures  ; 
let  us  fuppofe  them  five  in  number,  and  the  refem= 
blance  will  be  complete.    Each  of  the  pidures  refem- 
bles  an  aQ:  in  one  of  our  plays  :  there  muft  neceffari- 
ly  be  the  ftri^left  unity  of  place  and  of  time  in  each 
pidture ;  and  the  fame  neceffity   requires   thefe  two 
unities  during  each  aQ:  of  a  play,  becaufe  during  ai^ 
act  th^re  is  no  interruption  in  the  fpedacle.     Now, 
when  we  view  in  fucceffion  a  number  of  fuch  hiftor- 
ical pictures,    let  it  be,  for  example,  the  hiftory  of 
Alexander  by  Le  Brun,we  have  no  difficulty  to  con- 
ceive, that  months  or  years  have  paffed  between  the 
events  exhibited  in  two  different  piftures,  though 
the  interruption  is  imperceptible  in  paffmg  our  eye 
from  the  one  to  the  other  ;  and  we  have   as  little 
difficulty  to  conceive  a  change  of  place,  however 
great.     In  which  view,  there  is  truly  no  difference 
betv/een   five  afts  of  a  modern  play,  and   five  fuch 
piftures.     "Where  the  reprefentation  is  fufpended,  we 
.  can  with  the  greateft  facility  fuppofe  any  length  of 
I  time  or  any  change  of  place  :  the  fpedator,  it  is  true, 
I  may  be  confciousthat  the  real  time  and  place  are  not 
\  the 


Ch.  XXIIL  The  Three  Unities,  327 

the  fame  with  what  are  employed  in  the  reprefentation: 
hut  this  is  a  work  of  refledion  ;  and  by  the  fame  re- 
iieftion  he  may  alfo  be  confcious,  that  Garrick  is  not 
King  Lear,  that  the  playhoufe  is  not  Dover  cUffs,  nor 
the  noife  he  hears  thunder  and  lightning.  In  a  word, 
after  an  intermption  of  the  reprefentation,  it  is  no  more 
difficult  for  a  fpedator  to  imagine  a  new  place,  or  a 
liifFerent  time,  than  at  the  commencement  of  the 
play,  to  imagine  himfelf  at  Rome,  or  in  a  period  of 
lime  two  thoufand  years  back.  And  indeed,  it  is 
abundantly  ridiculous,  that  a  critic,  who  is  willing  to 
hold  candle-light  for  fun-lhine,  and  fome  painted  can- 
vaffes  for  a  palace  or  a  prifon,  (hould  be  fo  fcrupulous 
about  admitting  any  latitude  of  place  or  of  time  in  the 
fable,  beyond  what  is  neceflary  in  the  reprefentation. 

There  are,  I  acknowledge,  fome  eftecls    of  great  j 
latitude  in  time  that  never  ought  to  be  indulged  in  / 
a  compofition  for  the  theatre  :  nothing  can  be  more  / 
abfurd,  than  at  the  clofe  to  exhibit  a  full  grown  per-/ 
fon  who  appears  a  child  at  the  beginning  :  the  mind/ 
rejefts,  as  contrary  to    all  probabiUty,   fuch  latitude 
of  time  as  is  requifite  for  a  change  fo  remarkable. 
The  greateft  change  from  place  to  place  hath  not  al- 
together the  fame  bad  efFedl.     In  the  bulk  of  human 
affairs  place   is  not   material  ;  and  the   mind,  when 
occupied  wdth  an  interefting  event,  is  little  regardful 
of  minute  circumftances :  thefe  may  be  varied  at  will, 
becaufe  they  fcarce  make  any  impreflion. 

But  though  I  have  taken  arms  to  refcue  modern 
poets  from  the  defpotifm  of  modern  critics,  I  would 
not  be  underflood  to  juftify  liberty  without  any 
referve.  An  unbounded  licence  with  relation  to 
place  and  time,  is  fauky  for  a  reafon  that  feems 
to  have  been  overlooked,  which  is,  that  it  fel- 
dom  fails  to  break  the  unity  of  adion.  In  the  ordi- 
nary courfe  of  human  aifairs,  fmgle  events,  fuch  as 
9-re,  fit  to  be  reprefented  on  the  ftage,  are  confined  tu 
W  4  a  narrow 


328  ,    The  Three  Uniiles.  Ch.  XXIil. 

a  narrow  fpot,  and  commonly  employ  no  great  extent 
of  time  :  we  accordingly  feldom  find  ftrid  unity  of 
aiSlion  in  a  dramatic  compofition,  where  any  remarka- 
ble latitude  is  indulp;ed  in  thefe  particulars.  I  fay 
further,  that  a  compofition  which  employs  but  one 
place,  and  requires  not  a  greater  length  of  time  than 
is  neceffary  for  the  reprefentation,  is  fo  much  the 
more  perfect :  becaufe  the  confining  an  event  within 
fo  narrow  bounds,  contributes  to  the  unity  of  adion  : 
and  alfo  prevents  that  labour,  however  flight,  which 
the  mind  mufl  undergo  in  imagining  frequent  changes 
of  place  and  many  intervals  of  time.  But  flill  I 
mufl  infifl,  that  fuch  limitation  of  place  and  time 
as  was  neceffary  in  the  Grecian  drama,  is  no  rule  to 
us  ;  and  therefore,  that  though  fuch  Hmitation  adds 
one  beauty  more  to  the  compofition,  it  is  at  beft  but 
a  refinement,  which  may  juftly  give  place  to  a  thou- 
fand  beauties  more  fubff  antial.  And  I  may  add,  that 
it  is  extremely  difHcult,  I  was  about  to  fay  impradi- 
cable,  to  contrad  within  the  Grecian  limits,  any  fa- 
ble fo  fruitful  of  incidents  in  number  and  variety,  as, 
to  give  full  fcope  to  the  fluctuation  of  paffion. 

It  may  now  appear,  that  critics  who  put  the  uni- 
ties of  place  and  of  time  upon  the  fame  footing  with 
the  unity  of  adion,  making  them  all  equally  effential, 
have  not  attended  to  the  nature  and  conflitution  of 
the  modern  drama.  If  they  admit  an  interrupted 
reprefentation,  with  vvhich  no  writer  finds  fault,  it  is 
abfurd  to  rejed  its  greatefl  advantage,  that  of  repre- 
fenting  many  interefling  fubjeds  excluded  from  the 
Grecian  ffage.  If  there  needs  mufl  be  a  reforma- 
tion, Y^hy  not  reftore  the  ancient  chorus  and  the  an- 
cient continuity  of  adion  ?  There  is  certainly  no  me- 
dium :  for  to  admit  an  interruption  wiihout  relaxing 
from  the  ftritl  unities  of  place  and  of  time,  is  in  ef- 
itd:.  to  load  us  with  all  the  inconveniences  of  the  an- 
cient 


Ch.  XXIIL         The  Three  Unities,  329 

dent  drama,  and  at  the  fame  time  to  with-hold  from 
us  its  advantages. 

The  only  proper  queflion,  therefore,  is.  Whether  \ 
Gur  model  be  or  be  not  a  real  improvement  ?  Thi§  I 
indeed  may  fairly  be  called  in  queftion  :  and  in  or-  . 
der  to  a  comparative  trial,  forae  particulars  mull  be 
premifed.  When  a  play  begins,  -we  have  no  diffi- 
culty to  adjuPt  our  imagination  to  the  fcene  of  ac-  / 
tion,  however  diilant  it  be  in  time  or  in  place  ;  be-l 
caufe  we  know  that  the  play  is  a  reprefcntation  only. 
The  cafe  is  very  ditTerent  after  we  are  engaged  :  it  is 
the  perfection  of  reprefcntation  to  hide  itfelf,  to  ini- 
pofe  on  the  fpedator,  and  to  produce  in  him  an  im- 
prelTion  of  reality,  as  if  he  were  a  fpettatof  of  a  real 
event  ;*  but  any  interruption  annihilates  that  im- 
preffion,  by  roufmg  him  out  of  his  waking  dream, 
and  unhappily  reiloring  him  to  his  fenfes.  So  diHi- 
cuk  it  is  to  iapport  ihe  impreliion  o^  reality,  that 
much  fiighter  interruptions  than  the  interval  between 
two  a6ts,  are  fufficient  tp  difiolve  the  charm  :  in  the 
5th  ad;  of  the  Mourning  Bride,  the  three  firft  fcenes 
are  in  a  room  of  (late,  the  fourth  in  a  prifon  ;  an4 
the  change  is  operated  by  fliifting  the  fcene,  which 
is  done  in  a  trice:  but  however  quick  the  tranfition 
may  be,  it  is  imprafticable  to  impofe  upon  the  fpeda-i 
tors,  fo  as  to  make  them  conceive  that  they  are  actu- 
ally carried  from  the  palace  to  the  prifon  ;  they  im^ 
mediately  lefieft,  that  the  palace  and  prifon  are  im- 
aginary, and  that  the  whole  is  a  fi£lion. 

From  thefe  premifes,  one  will  naturally  be  \cd,  at 
firil  view,  to  pronounce  the  frequent  interruptions  in 
the  modern  drama  to  be  an  imperfcdion.  It  wid 
occur,  "  That  every  interruption  muft  have  the  ef- 
fect to  banilh  the  dream  of  reality,  and  with   it  to 

banifh 

*  Chap.  2.  part  1.  fttl.  7. 


^^o  The  Three  Umties,  Ch.  XXIIL 

banifli  our  concern,  which  cannot  fubfifl  while  we 
are  confcious  that  all  is  a  fiftion  ;  and  therefore,  that 
in  the  modern  drama  fufficient  time  is  not  afforded 
for  fluftuaticn  and  fwelling  of  paff.on,  like  what  is 
aff(3|fded  in  that  of  Greece,  where  there  is  no  inter- 
ruption." This  reafoning,  it  muft  be  owned,  has 
a  fpecious  appearance :  but  we  muft  not  become 
faint-hearted  upon  the  firft  repulfe  ;  let  us  rally  our 
troops  for  a  fecond  engagement. 

Confidering    attentively  the  ancient  drama,    we 
find,    that  though  the  reprefentation  is  never  inter- 
rupted, the  principal  action  is  fufpended  not  lefs  fre- 
quently than  in  the   modern  drama  :  there  are   five 
acts  in  each  ;  and  the  only  difference  is,  that  in  the 
former,  when  the  action  is  fufpended  as  it  is  at  the 
end  of  every  act,  opportunity  is  taken  of  the  interval 
to  employ  the  chorus  in  fmging.     Hence  it  appears, 
that  the  Grecian  continuity  of  reprefentation  cannot 
have  the  effcd  to  prolong  the  irapreffion  of  reality  : 
to  banillr  that  impreffion,  a  paufe  in  the  action  while 
the  chorus  is  employ'd  in  fmging,  is  no  lefs  effectual 
than  a  total  fufpenfion  of  the  reprefentation. 
/      But   to  open  a  larger  view,  I  am  ready  to  fhow, 
I  that  a  reprefentation  with  proper   paufes,  is  better 
/  qualified  for  making  a  deep  impreffion,  than  a  con- 
1  tinned  reprefentation  without  a  paufe.     This  will  be 
/  evident  from  the  following  confiderations.     Repre- 
I    fentation  cannot  very  long  fupport  an  impreffion  of 
reality  ;  for  when  the  fpiii-ts  are  exhaufied  by  clofe 
attention   and  by  the  agitation  of  paffion,  an  uneafi-, 
nefs  enfues,  which  never  fails  to  banilh  the  waking 
dream.  Now  fuppofing  the  time  that  a  man  can  em- 
ploy with  ftrift  attention  without  wandering,  to  be' 
no  greater  than  is  requifite  for  a  fingle  ad,   a  fuppo- 
fition  that  cannot  be  far  from  truth  ;  it  fclloA^^,  that 
a  continued  reprefentation  of  longer  endurance  than 

an 


CH,XXm.         The  Three  Unities,  331 

sn  aft,  inftead  of  giving  fcope  to  flu6luation  an4 
{weeing  of  paffion,  would  overftrain  the  attention, 
and  produce  a  total  abfence  of  mind.    In  that  refpeftj 
the  four  paufes  have  a  fine  efi'e6l  ;  for  by  affording   j 
to  the  audience  a  feafonable  refpite  when  the  impref-  / 
fion  of  reality  is  gone,  and  while  nothing  materiiii  is/ 
in  agitation,  they  relieve  the  mind  from  its  fatigue  j'^ 
and  confequently  prevent  a  wandering  of  thought  at 
the  very  tim^  poffibly  of  the  moR  interefting  fcenes. 

In  one  article,  indeed,  the   Grecian  model    has 
greatly  the  advantage  ;  its  chorus  during  an  inter- 
val  not    only    prelerves    alive  the  inipreiTions   made 
upon    the   audience,   but  alfo   prepares  their  hearts 
finely  for  new  impreflions.     In  our  theatres,    on  the 
contrary,  the  audience,  at  the  end  of  every  aft,  be- 
ing left  to  trifle  time  away,  lofe  every  warm  imprefr 
fion  ;  and  they  begin  the  next  ad:  cool  and  uncon- 
jcerned,    as   at  the  commencement  of  the  reprefenta» 
tion.     This  is  a  grofs  malady  in  our  theatrical  repre- 
fentations ;  but  a  malady  that  luckily  is  not  incurable. 
To   revive  the   Grecian  chorus,  would  be  to  revive 
the  Grecian  Havery  of  place  and  time  ;  but  I  can 
figure  a  detached  chorus  coinciding  with  a  paufe  in 
the  reprefentation,    as  the  ancient  chorus  did  with  a 
paufe  in  the  principal  a6lion.     What  objection,  for/ 
example,  can  there  lie  againft  mufic  between  the  acts, 
vocal  and  inflrumemal,  adapted  to  thefubjed  ?  Such 
detached   chorus,  without  putting  us  under  any  lim- 
itation of  time  or  place,  would  recruit  the  fpirits,  and  1 
would    preferve    entire  the   tone,   if  not  the  tide  of 
pafiion  :  the  mufic,  after  an  aft  fliould  commence  in 
the  tone  of  the  preceding  pafTion,  and  be  gradually 
varied  till  it  accord  with  the  tone  of  the  paillon  that 
is   to   fucceed   in   the  next  a6t.     The  mufic  and  the 
reprefentation   would  both  of  them   be  gainers  by 
their  conjundlon  ;  which  will  thus  appear*     Mufic 

that 


3.3^  ^TfC'  Three  Unhies*  Ch.  XXIIL 

ihat  accords  with  the  prefent  tone  of  mind,  is,  on  that 
account,  doubly  agreeable  ;  and  accordingly, kfiough 
mufic  fnigly  hath  not  power  to  raife  a  paffion,At  tends 
greatly  to  fupport  a  paffion  already  raifed.|  Further, 
niuhc  prepares  us  for  the  paffion  that  follows,  by 
making  cheerful,  tender,  melancholy,  or  animated 
impreflions,  as  the  fubjeQ:  requires.  Take  for  an 
example  the  fir  ft  fcene  of  the  Mourning  Bride,  where 
foft  mufic,  in  a  melancholy  ftrain,  prepares  us  for 
Ahneria's  4e<?p  diftrefs.  In  this  manner,  mufic  and 
reprefcAitation  fupport  each  other  delightfully  :  the 
imprelHcn  m,ade  upon  the  audience  by  the  reprefent- 
ation,  is  a  fine  preparation  for  the  mufic  that  fucceeds  ; 
and  the  impreffion  made  by  the  mufic,  is  a  line  prep- 
aration for  the  reprefentation  that  fucceeds.  It  ap- 
pears to  me  evident,  that,  by  fome  fuch  contrivance, 
the  modern  drama  may  be  improved,  fo  as  to  enjoy 
the  advantage  of  fhe  anci&nt  chorus  without  its  flaviili 
limitation  of  place  and  time.  Aiid  as  to  mufic  in 
particular,  I  cannot  figure  any  means  that  would  tend 
more  to  its  improvement :  compofers,  thofe  for  the 
flage  at  lead,  would  be  reduced  to  the  happy  necef- 
firy  of  iludying  and  imitating  nature  ;  initead  of 
deviating,  according  to  the  prefent  mode,  into  wild, 
fantaltic,  and  unnatural  conceits.  But  we  mufl  re- 
turn to  our  fubjett,  and  finiih  the  comparifon  between 
lilt  ancient  and  the  modern  drama. 

The  numberlefs  improprieties  forced  upon  the 
Greek  dramatic  poets  by  the  conflitiuion  of  their 
drama,  may  be  fufficicnt,  one  Hiould  think,  to  make 
us  prefer  the  modern  drama,  even  abftrading  from 
the  improvement  propofed.  To  prepare  the  readev 
for  this  article,  it  mult  be  premifed,  that  as  in  the 
ancient  drama  the  place  of  aftion  nev^er  varies,  a 
place  neceflarily  muft  be  chofen,  to  which  every  per-r 
fon  may  have  accefs  without  any  improbability.  This 
confines  the  fcene  to  fome  open  place,  generally  the 

court 


€h,  XXIII.  The  Three  UnUiei,  33;; 

court  or  area  before  a  palace  ;  which  exdhjclcs  froirt 
the  Grecian  theatre  tranfattions  within  doors,  though 
thefe  commonly  are  the  moft  important.  Such  cruel 
reflraint  is  of  itfelf  fufficient  to  cramp  the  moft  preg- 
nant invention  ;  and  accordingly  Greek  writers,  in 
order  to  preferve  unity  of  place,  are  reduced  to  wo- 
ful  improprieties.  In  the  Hippolytus  of  Euripides,* 
Phedra  diltrefled  in  mind  and  body,  is  carried  with^ 
out  any  pretext  from  her  palace  to  the  place  of 
adion  :  is  there  laid  upon  a  couch,  unable  to  fupport 
herfelf  upon  her  limbs,  and  made  to  utter  many 
things  improper  to  be  heard  by  a  number  of  women 
who  form  the  chorus  :  and  what  is  ftill  more  im- 
proper, her  female  attendant  ufes  the  ftrongeft  in- 
treaties  to  make  her  reveal  the  fecret  caufe  of  her 
anguifh  ;  which  at  laft  Phedra,  contrary  to  decency 
and  probability,  is  prevailed  upon  to  do  in  prefence 
of  that  very  chorus. f  Alccjlcs,  in  Euripides,  at  the 
point  of  death,  is  brought  from  the  palace  to  the 
place  of  action,  groaning,  and  lamenting  her  untimely 
fate. J  In  the  Trachiniens  of  Sophocles, §  a  fecret  is 
imparted  to  Dejanira,  the  wife  of  Hercules,  in  pref- 
ence of  the  chorus.  In  the  tragedy  of  Iphigcnia,  the 
nieifenger  employed  to  inform  Clitemneltra  that  Iph- 
igenia  was  facrificed,  ftops  fhort  at  the  place  of  a6tiony 
and  with  a  loud  voice  calls  the  Queen  from  her  pal- 
ace to  hear  the  news,  i^gain,  in  the  Jphigenia  in 
Taurh^  the  neceffary  prefence  of  the  chorus  forces 
Euripides  into  a  grofs  abfiirdity,  which  is  to  form  a 
fecret  in  their  hearing  ;|j  and  to  dilguife  the  abfurd- 
ity,  much  court  is  paid  to  the  chorus,  not  one  woman 
but  a  number,  to  engage  them  to  fecrecy.  In  the 
Medea  of  Euripides,  that  princefs  makes  no  difficulty, 
in  prefence  of  the  chorus,  to  plot  the  death  of  her 

hufband, 

*  Aa  1.  fc.  5.  t  Aa  2.  fc.  2,  +  Aa  2.  fc.  1, 

§  Aa  a.  \  Aa  4.  at  the  clofe. 


3 34  5r/;^  tht'ee  Umtlel  Ch.  XXllU 

hufband,  of  his  miftrefs,  and  of  her  father  the  King 
of  Corinth,  all  by  polfon.  It  was  neceifary  to  bring 
Medea  upon  the  ftage,  and  there  is  but  one  place  of 
attion,  which  is  always  occupied  by  the  chorus.  This 
fcene  clofes  the  fecond  act :  and  in  the  end  of  the 
third,  fhe  frankly  makes  the  chorus  her  confidents 
in  plotting  the  murder  of  her  own  children.  Ter- 
ence, by  identity  of  place,  is  often  forced  to  make  a 
converfation  within  doors,  be  heard  on  the  opea 
ftreet  :  the  cries  of  a  woman  in  labour  are  there 
heard  difl:in6lly. 

The  Greek  poets  are  not  lefs  hampered  by  unity 
of  time  than  by  that  of  place.  In  the  Hippolytus  of 
Euripides,  that  prince  is  baniflied  at  the  end  of  the 
fourth  ad  ;  and  in  the  firft  fcene  of  the  following 
aQ;,  a  meiTenger  relates  to  Thefeus  the  whole  partic- 
ulars of  the  death  of  Hippolytus  by  the  fea-monfler  : 
that  remarkable  event  mud  have  occupied  many- 
hours  ;  and  yet  in  the  i  eprefentation,  it  is  confined 
to  the  time  employed  by  the  chorus  upon  the  fong 
at  the  end  of  the  ^.tW  a6l.  The  inconiiftency  is  flill 
greater  in  the  Iphigenia  in  Tauris  :*  the  fong  could 
not  exhaull  half  an  hour  ;  and  yet  the  incidents 
fuppofed  to  have  happened  during  that  time,  could 
not  naturally  have  been  tranfafted  in  lefs  thaii  half  a 
day. 

The  Greek  artifls  are  forced,  no  lefs  frequently,  to 
{ranfgrels  another  rule,  derived  alfo  from  a  continued 
reprefentation.  The  rule  is,  that  as  a  vacuity,  how- 
ever momentary,  interrupts  the  reprefentation,  it  is 
necefTary  that  the  place  of  adion  be  conftantly  occu- 
pied. Sophocles,  with  regard  to  that  rule  as  well  as 
to  others,  is  generally  correct.  But  Euripides  can- 
not bear  fuch  reftraint  :  he  often  evacuates  the  ftage, 
and  leaves  it  empty  for  others.     Jphigenia  in  Tauris, 

after 
*  Aa  5.  fc.  4. 


€h,  XXIII.  ne  Three  Unities.  33^, 

after  pronouncing  a  foHIoquy  In  the  firfl  fcene,  leaves 
the  place  of  adion,  and  is  fucceeded  by  Oreftes  and 
Pylades  :  they,  after  feme  converfation,  walk  off  ; 
and  Iphigenia  re-enters,  accompanied  with  the  chorus. 

In  the  Alcejics^  which  is  of  the  fame  author,  the 
place  of  adtion  is  void  at  the  end  of  the  third  aft. 
It  is  true,  that  to  cover  the  irregularity,  and  to  pre- 
ferve  the  reprefentation  in  motion,  Euripides  is  care- 
ful to  fill  the  ftage  without  lofs  of  time  :  but  this 
ilill  is  an  interruption,  and  a  link  of  the  chaia 
broken  ;  for  during  the  change  of  the  a£lors,  there 
mult  be  a  fpace  of  time,  during  which  the  ftage  is 
occupied  by  neither  fet.  It  makes  indeed  a  more 
remarkable  interruption,  to  change  the  place  of 
action  as  well  as  the  aclors  ;  but  that  was  not  practi- 
cable upon  the  G'recian  ftage. 

It  is  hard  to  fay  upon  what  model  Terence  has 
formed  his  plays.  Having  no  chorus,  there  is  a 
paufe  in  the  reprefentation  at  the  end  of  every  a£t. 
But  advantage  is  not  taken  of  the  ceflation,  even  to 
vary  the  place  of  a6tion :  for  the  ftreet  is  always 
chofen,  where  every  thing  palling  may  be  feen  by  every 
perfon  ;  and  by  that  choice,  the  moft  fprightly  and 
interefting  parts  of  the  aftion,  which  commonly  pafs 
within  doors,  are  excluded  ;  witnefs  the  laft  aft  of 
the  Eunuch.  He  hath  fubmitted  to  the  like  flavery 
with  refpeft  to  time.  In  a  word,  a  play  with  a  regu-  * 
iar  chorus,  is  not  more  confined  in  place  and  time 
than  his  plays  are.  Thus  a  zealous  feftary  follows 
implicitly  ancient  forms  and  ceremonies,  without  once 
confidering  whether  their  introduftive  caufe  be  ftill 
fubfirting.  Plautus,  of  a  bolder  genius  than  Terence, 
makes  go'od  ufe  of  the  liberty  afforded  by  an  inter- 
rupted reprefentation  :  he  varies  the  place  of  aftion 
upon  all  occafions,  when  the  variation  fuits  his  pur- 
pofi. 

The 


J3^  'T'he  Three  Unitich  Ctl.  SXIIL 

The  intelligent  reader  will  by  this  time  underftand^ 
thit  1  plead  ior  no  change  of  place  in  our  plays  but 
after  an  interval,  nor  for  p.ny  latitude  in  point  of  time 
Lut  what  falls  in  with  an  interval.  The  unities  of 
)  place  and  time  ought  to  be  ftriftly  obferved  during 
'  /  each  act  ;  for  during  the  leprefentaaon,  there  is  no 
opportunity  for  the  fmalleft  deviation  from  either. 
jHence  it  is  an  effential  requifite,  that  during  an  act 
/the  ilage  be  always  occupied  ;  for  even  a  momentary 
vacuity  makes  an  interval  or  interruption.  Another 
rale  is  no  lefs  eiTential  :  it  would  be  a  grofs  breach 
of  the  unity  of  action,  to  exhibit  upon  the  ftage  two 
ieparate  actions  at  the  fame  time  ;  and  therefore,  to 
preferve  that  unity,  it  is  neceffary  that  each  perfon- 
age  introduced  during  an  ad,  be  linked  to  thofe  m 
poflelTion  of  the  ftage,  fo  as  to  join  all  in  one  action* 
Thefe  things  follow  from  the  very  conception  of 
an  a(5t,  which  admits  not  the  flightell  interruption  2 
the  moment  the  reprefentation  is  intermitted,  there  is 
an  end  of  that  act ;  and  we  have  no  notion  of  a 
nevv^  att,  but  where,  after  a  paufe  or  interval,  the 
reprefentation  is  again  put  in  motion.  French  writers, 
crenerally  fpsaking,  are  correct  in  this  particular^ 
The  Englilh,  on  the  contrary,  are  fo  irregular,  as 
fcarce  to  dsferve  a  criticifm.  Adtors,  during  the 
fame  a£t,  not  only  fucceed  each  other  in  the  fame 
place  without  connection,  but  what  is  ftill  lefs  excuf- 
able,  they  frequently  fucceed  each  other  in  different 
phices.  This  change  of  place  in  the  fame  a£t,  ought 
never  to  be  indulged  ;  for,  befide  breaking  the  unity 
of  the  att,  it  has  a  difagreeable  effett.  After  an  in- 
terval, the  imagination  readily  adapts  itfelf  to  any 
place  that  is  neceffary,  as  readily  as  at  the  commence- 
ment of  the  play  :  but  during  the  reprefentation,  we 
reject  change  of  place.  From  the  foregoing  cenfure 
niufl  be  excepted  the  Mourning  Bride  of  Congreve, 

where 


Ch.  XXIIL  The  Three  Unities,  337 

where    regularity   concurs  with  the  beauty  of  fenti- 
ment  and  of  language,  to  make  it  one  of  the  mod  com- 
plete  pieces   England   has  to  boaft  of     I  mufl  ac* 
knowledge,  however,  that  in  point  of  regularity,  this 
elegant-  performance  is  not  altogether  unexception- 
able,    hi  the  four  fir/l  a6is,  the  unities  of  place  and 
time  are  ftriclly  obferved  :  but  in  the  laft  aft,  there  is 
a  capital  error  with  refpe£t  to  unity  of  place  ;  for  in 
the  three  firft  fcenes  of  that  act,  the  place  of  aftioii 
is  a  room  of  flate,  which  is  changed  to  a  prifcn  in 
the  fourth  fcene  :  the    chain  alib  of  the  aftors  is 
broken  ;  as  the  perfons  introduced  in  the  prifon,  are 
different  from  thofe  who  made  their  appearance  in  the 
room  of  flate.     This  remaikable  interruption  of  the 
reprefentation,  makes  in  effect  two  acls  inftead  of 
one  :  and  therefore,  if  it  be  a  rule  that  a  play  ought 
not  to  confift  of  more  afts  than  five,  this  performance  i 
is  fo  far  defeftive  in  point  of  regularity.      I  may  add/ 
that   even  admitting  fix  adts,  the  irregularity  would 
not  be  altogether  removed,  without  a  longer  paufe  in. 
the  reprefentation  than  is  allowed  in  the  aSing  ;  for 
more  tlian  a  momentary  interruption  is  requifite  for 
enabling  the  imagination  readily  to  fall  in  with  a  new 
place,  or  with  a  wide  fpace  of  time.     In  The  Way  vf 
the  Warld,  of  the  fame  author,  unity  of  place  is  pre- 
ferved  during  every  ad,  and  a  ft  rider  unity  of  tim^ 
during  the  whole  play,  than  is  neceffary. 


CHAP. 


Vol.  IL 


CHAP.     XXIV. 

Gardening  and  Archite5iure. 

X  HE  books  we  have  upon  architecture  and 
upon  embellilhing  ground,  abound  in  practical  in- 
ftrudion,  neceflary  for  a   mechanic  :  but  in  vain 
fhould  we  rummage  them  for  rational  principles  to 
improve  our  tafle.     In  a  general  fyftera,  Jt  might  be 
thought  fufficient  to  have  unfolded  the  principles  that 
govern  thefe  and  other  fine  arts,  leaving  the  applica- 
tion to  the  reader  :  but  as  I  would  neglect  no  oppor- 
tunity of  fliowing  the  extenfive  influence  of  thefe 
principles,   the  purpofe  of  the  prefent  chapter  is  to 
apply  them  to  gardening  and  architecture  :  but  with- 
out intending  any  regular  plan  of  thefe  favourite  arts, 
which  would  be  unfuitable  not  only  to  the  nature  of 
this  work,  but  to  the  experience  of  its  author. 
^    Gardening  was  at  firft  an  ufeful  art :  in  the  garden 
of  Alcinous,   defcribed  by  Homer,  we  find  nothing 
done  for   pleafure  merely.     But  gardening   is   now 
improved  into  a    fine  art  ;  and   when   we  talk  of  a 
garden    without    any   epithet,  a  pleafure  garden,  bv 
way   of  eminence   is   underftood  :   The   garden  of 
Alcinous,  in  modern  language,  was  but  a  kitchen- 
garden.     Architecture  has  run  the  fame   courfe  :  it 
continued   many  ages  an  ufeful  art  merely,,  without 
afpiring   to   be  claffed   With  the  fine   arts.     Archi- 
tecture,   therefore,    and  gardening,  being  ufeful  arts 
as  well  as  fine  arts,  aiford  two  different  views.     The 
reader,  however,  will  not  here  expeCt  rules  for  im- 
proving any  work  of  art  in  point  of  utility  ;  it  being 
no  part  of  my  plan  to  treat  of  any  ufeful  art  as  fuch  : 

but 


Ch.  XXIV.    Gardening  a?id  Archite6lure,  33^ 

but  there  is  a  beauty  In  utility  ;  and  in  difcourfing  of 
beauty,  that  of  utility  muft  not  be  neglected.  This 
leads  us  to  confider  gardens  and  buildings  in  differ- 
ent views  :  they  may  be  deftined  for  ufe  folely,  for 
beauty  folely,  or  for  both.  Such  variety  of  deftina- 
tion,  bellows  upon  thefe  arts  a  great  command  of 
beauties,  complex  no  lefs  than  variuus.  Hence  the 
difficulty  of  forming  an  accurate  tafte  in  gardening 
and  architecture :  and  hence  that  difference  and 
wavering  of  tafle  in  thefe  arts,  greater  than  in  any 
art  that  has  but  a  fmgle  deftination. 

(  Architedure  and  gardening  cannot  otherwife  enter- 
tain  the  mind,. but  by  raifmg  certain  agreeable  emo- 
tions or  feelings/;  with  which  we  muft  begin,  as  the 
true  foundation  of  all  the  rules  of  criticifm  that  gov- 
ern thefe  arts.     Poetry,  as  to  its-  power  of  railing  / 
emotions,   poffeffes  juftly   the  firft  place  among  the 
fine   arts    ;     for   fcarce  any   one  emotion   of   hu- 
man nature    is   beyond    its    reach.       Painting    and  a 
fculpture  are  more  circumfcribed,   having  the  com-  ^ 
mand  of  no  emotions  but  of  what  are  raifed  by  fight : 
they  are  peculiarly  fuccefsful  in   expreffing  painful 
paffions,  which  are  difplayed  by   external  figns  ex- 
tremely legible.*     Gardening,  befide  the  emotions  of  'l 
beauty  from  regularity,   order,    proportion,  colour,  -^ 
and  utility,  can  raife  emotions  of  grandeur,  of  fweet- 
nefs,  of  gaiety,  of  melancholy,  of  wildnefs,  and  even 
of  furprife  or  wonder.     In  architecture,  the  beauties 
of  regularity,  order,  and  proportion,  are  ftill  more 
confpicuous  than  in  gardening  ;  but  as  to  the  beauty 
of  colour,    architecture   is  far  inferior.     Grandeur 
can  be  expreffed  in  a  building,  perhaps  more  fucceff- 
luUy  than  in  a  garden  ;  but  as  to  the  other  emotions 
above  mentioned,  architecture  hitherto  has  not  been 
brought  to  the  perfection  of  expreirme  them  diftinClly. 

To' 

*  See  chap.  I5, 
X    3 


4 


3'40  Gardetiing  and  Architc^ure.     Ch.  XXIt% 

To  balance  that  defeft,  architedure  can  difplay  the 
beauty  of  utility  in  the  higheft  perfeftion. 
/        /        /    Gardening  indeed    polTciTes  one  advantage,  never 
Uvtiyi^Ti^'iMyto  be  equalled  in  the  other  art :  in   various  Icencs,  it 
^utk-yooLi  '  ^"^^^  ^ '^^^"^  fucceilively  all  the  different  emotions  above 
/      mentioned.     But  to  produce  that  delicious  effeft,  the 
•rarderl-  muft  be  extenfive,  fo  as  to  admit  a  flovi^  fuc- 
ceffion  :  for  a  fmall  garden,  comprehended  at  one 
view,   ought  to  be  coniined  to  one  expreffion  ;*  it 
may  be  gay,  it  may  be  fweet,  it  may  be  gloomy  ;  but 
rm  attempt  to  mix  thefe,"  ^vould  create  a  jumble  of 
emotlcns  not  a  little  unpleafant.f     For  the  fame  rea- 
ibn,  a  building,  even  the  moft  magnificent,  is  necef- 
farily  confined  to  one  expreffion. 
.      Archite6lure,  confidered  as  a  fine  art,  infl:ead  of 
'ViwfGftting  a  rival  to  gardening  in  its  pi-ogrefs,  feems  not 
'  J    ifar  advanced  beyond  its  infant  ff ate.     To  bring  it  to 
"^^^linaturity,    two  things   mainly  are  wanted.     Firfl,  a 
\W^^    I  greater  variety  of  parts  and  ornaments  than  at  pref- 
ent  it  feems  provided  with.     Gardening  here  has 
greatly  the  advantage  :  it  is  provided  with  plenty  of 
materials  for  raifing  fcenes  without  end,  affeding  the 
fpedtator  with  variety  of  emotions.     In  architefture, 
on    the    contrary,  materials  are  fo  fcarrty,  that  artiils 
hitherto  have  not  been  fuccefsful  in  raifmg  any  emo- 
tions but  of  beauty  and  grandeur  :  with  refpeft  to 
the  former,  there  are  indeed  plenty  of  means,  regu- 
larity, order,  fypimetry,  limplicity,  utility  ;  and  with 
refpeft  to  the  latter,  the  addition  of  fize  is  fufficient. 
But   though  it  is  evident,  that  every  building  ought 
to  have  a  certain  charafter  or  expreflion  fuitcd  to  iti 
deflination  ;   yet   this  refinement   has   fcarce   been 

attempted 

*  See  cliap.  8. 

+  "  The  citizen,  who  in  his  villa  has  but  an  acre  for  a  garden,  inuft 
have  it  diverfifisd  with  tvery  objefl.  that  is  fuited  to  an  extenfive  garjJen. 
1  here  muft  be  woods,  ftreams,  h'iYn':i  flacuGSj  and  Jeinplcs  to  every  god^ 
def;  a::  wcl!  as  to  Cloacina.'' 


C'h.  XXIV,     Gardetimg  and  ArchiteBurel  345^ 

attempted  by  any  artlfl.  A  death's  head  and  bones 
employed  hi  monumental  buildings,  will  indeed  pro- 
duce an  emotion  of  gloom  and  melancholy  ;  but 
iuch  ornaments,  if  thefe  can  be  termed  fo,  ought  to 
be  lejetled,  becaufe  they  are  in  themfelves  difagree-  ^ ^ 
able.  (I1ie  other  thing  wanted  to  bring  the  art  to  c^^uJ 
perfeftion,  is,  to  afcertain  the  prccife  imprelTion  made 
by  every  fmgle  part  and  ornament,  cupolas,  fpires, 
columns,  carvings,  (tatiies,  vafes,  l^c.  for  in  vain 
will  an  artift  attempt  rules  for  employing  thefe,  either 
fmgly  or  in  combination,  until  the  diflerent  emotions 
they  produce  be  di(l:in£lly  explainedt'^,  -Gardening  iii 
that  particular  aifo,  hath  the  a-dvanta'ge  :  the  feveral 
emotions  raifed  by  trees,  rivers,  cafcades,  plains^ 
eminences,  and  its  other  materials,  are  underliood  ; 
and  each  emotion  can  be  defcribed  with  fome  degree 
of  precifion,  which  is  attempted  occafionaily  in  the 
foregoing  parts  of  this  work.  f/     . 

In  gardening  as  well  as  in  architetlure,  fimpliclty  Q//h^liJ\ 
ought  to  be  a,  ruling  principle.'  Profufe  ornament  h'atli  ' 

no  better  effetSt  than  to  confound  the  eye,  and  to  pre^ 
vent  the  obje6l  from  making  an  impreffion  as  one 
entire  whole^  An  artift  deftitute  of  g-enius  for  cap- 
ital beauties,  is  naturally  prompted  to  liipply  the  dj. 
feci  by  crowding  his  plan  with  flight  embelliihments  : 
lience,  in  a  garden,  triumphal  arches,  Chinefe  houfes, 
temples,  obeliflis,  cafcades,  fountains,  without  end  ; 
«nd  in  a  building,  pillars,  vafes,  ftatues,  and  a  profu- 
fion  of  carved  work.  Thus  fome  women  defective  iii 
■tafte,  are  apt  to  overcharge  every  part  of  their  dref> 
with  ornament.  Superfluity  of  decoration  hath  an- 
other bad  effeO:  :  it  gives  the  objed  a  diminutive  I 
look  :  an  ifland  in  a  wide  extended  lake  makes  it 
appear  larger  ;  but  an  artificial  lake,  which  is  al- 
ways little,  appears  dill  lefs  by  making  an  ifland  in  it.* 

Iix 

*  See  appendix  w  part  5.  chap.  £. 


"g/j-*  Gardening  and  ArcUteElure.     Ch.  XXIV^ 

In  forming  plans  for  embellifhing  a  field,  an  artift 
without  tafte  employs  ftraight  lines,  circles,  fquares  ; 
/]   becaufe  thefe  look  beft  upon  paper.    He  perceives  not, 
^that  to  humour  and  adorn  nature,  is  the  perfedion. 
of  his   art  ;  and  that  nature,  negle£ting  regularity, 
difhributes   her  objeds  in  great  variety  with  a  bold 
hand.     A  large  field   laid  out  with  flrid  regularity, 
^n  is  fliff  and  artificial.*     Nature  indeed,  in  organized 
)  ^t^7Lr|^^^.^^  comprehended  under  one  view,  ftudies   regu- 
larity, which,  for  the  fame  reafon,  ought  to  be  lludi- 
ed  in  architecture  :  but  in  large  objeds,  which  can- 
not otherwife  be  furveyed   but  in  parts  and  by  fuc- 
ceffion,   regularity  and   uniformity  would   be  ufelefs 
properties,  becaule  they  cannot  be  difcovered  by  the 
eve.f   Nature  therefore,  in  her  large  works,  negledls 
thefe  properties  ;  and   in  copying  nature,  the  artifl 
ought  to  negled  them. 

Having  thus  far  carried  on  a  comparifon  between 

■^        gardening  and  archite^ure  ;  rules  peculiar  to  each 

come  next  in  order,  beginning  with  gardening.  The 

\     fimplefl:  plan  of  a  garden,  is  that  of  a  fpot  embellifh- 

'      ed  with  a  number  of  natural  objefts,  trees,  walks, 

polifhed  parterres,  flowers,  ftreams,  i^c.  One  more 

a     complex  comprehends  ftatues  and  buildings,    that 

nature  and  art  may  be  mutually  ornamental.      A 

(^     third,  approaching  nearer  perfedlion,  is  of  objeds  afi- 

;     fembled  together  in  order  to  produce,  not  only  an 

^      emotion  of  beauty,  but  alfo  feme  other  particular 

emotion,  grandeur,  for  example,  gaiety,  or  any  other 

above 

*  In  France  and  Italy,  a  garden  is  difpofcd  like  ihe  human  body, 
alleys,  like  legs  and  arms,  anfvieiing  each  other;  the  great  walk  in  the 
middle  reprefenting  the  trunk  of  the  body.  Thus  an  artill  void  of  tads 
carries  felf  along  into  every  operation. 

f  A  fquare  field  appears  not  fuch  to  the  eye  when  viewed  from  any 
part  of  it  ;  and  the  centre  is  the  only  place  where  a  circular  Held  pre* 
fcrves  in  aj-pearance  its  regular  figure. 


Ch.  XXIV.     Gardening  and  ArchiteBure^  343 

above  mentioned.  The  completefl  plan  of  a  garden 
is  an  improvement  upon  the  third,  requiring  the  fev-  / 
eral  parts  to  be  lb  arranged,  as  to  infpire  all  the  dif-  Y 
ferent  emotions  that  can  be  raifed  by  gardening.  In 
this  plan,  the  arrangement  is  an  important  circum- 
flance  ;  for  it  has  been  iliov^^n,  that  fome  emotions 
figure  befl  in  conjunQion,  and  that  others  ought  al- 
ways to  appear  in  fucceffion,  and  never  in  conjunc- 
tion. It  is  mentioned  above,*  that  when  the  mofl 
oppofite  emotions,  fuch  as  gloominefs  and  gaiety, 
ftillnefs  and  aftivity,  follow  each  other  in  fucceffion, 
the  pleafure,  on  the  whole,  will  be  the  greateft  ;  but 
that  fuch  emotions  ought  not  to  be  united,  becaule 
they  produce  an  unpleafant  mixture.!  For  this  rea- 
fon,  a  ruin  affording  a  fort  of  melancholy  pleafure, 
ought  not,  to  be  feen  from  a  flower-parterre  which  is 
gay  and  cheerful.];  But  to  pafs  from  an  exhilar- 
ating objeft  to  a  ruin,  has  a  fine  effect  ;  for  each  of 
the  emotions  is  the  more  fenfibly  felt  by  being  con- 
trafted  with  the  other.  Similar  emotions,  on  the 
other  hand,  fuch  as  gaiety  and  fweetnefs,  ftillnefs  and 
gloominefs,  motion  and  grandeur,  ought  to  be  raifed 
together  ;  for  their  effecis  upon  the  mind  are  greatly 
heightened  by  their  conjundion.  f/   J^ 

y  Kent's  method  of  embelliiliing  a  field,  is  admirable;  /^f 
which  is  to  replenilh  it  with  beautiful  objefts,  natural  i^^^H-», 
and  artificial,  difpofed  as  they  ought  to  be  upon  a 
canvas  in  painting.j'  It  requires  indeed  more  genius 
to  paint  in  the  gardening  way  :  in  forming  a  land^ 
fcape  upon  a  canvas,  no  more  is  required  but  to  ad- 
juft  the  figures  to  each  other  :  an  artift  who  would 
form  a  garden  in  Kent's  manner,  has  an  additional 
tafiv  ;  which  is,  to  adjufl  his  figures  to  the  feveral  va- 
iicties  of  the  field. 

A  fingle 

*  Chap.  8,    i  Ch?p.i2.  part  4.    i;  See  the  place  immediately  abovt;  cited. 
X4 


KyJiMJ^ 


344  Gardening  and  ArchiteSlicre,     Ch.  XXIV. 

A  fingle  garden  muft  be  diftlnguifhed  from  a  plu- 
'j"ality  ;  and  yet  it  is  not  obvious  in  what  the  unity  of 
'iitvj         ^  garden  confifts.      We  have  indeed  fome  notion  of 
'^'^^  unity  in  a  garden  furrounding  a  palace,   with   viewii 

from  each  window,  and  walks  leading  to  every 
corner  :  but  there  may  be  a  garden  without  a  houfe  ; 
in  which  cafe,  it  is  the  unity  of  defign  that  makes  it 
one  garden  ;  as  where  a  fpot  of  ground  is  fo  art- 
iully  dreifed  as  to  make  the  feveral  portions  appear 
to  be  parts  of  one  whole.  The  gardens  of  Ver- 
failles,  properly  exprelfed  in  the  plural  number,  be- 
ing no  fewer  than  fixteen,  are  indeed  all  of  them 
<:onne6led  with  the  palace,  but  have  fcarce  any  mu- 
tual connedion  :  they  appear  not  like  parts  of  one 
%vhole,  but  rather  like  fmall  gardens  in  contiguityo 
A  greater  diftance  between  thefe  gardens  would  pro- 
duce a  better  eife<ft  :  their  junftion  breeds  confulion. 
of  ideas,  and  upon  the  whole  gives  lefs  pleafure  than. 
v/ould  be  felt  in  a  flower  fucceffion. 
/  \dy^  Regularity  is  required  in  that  part  of  a  garden 
^[(^j^Ywhich  is  adjacent  to  the  dwelling-houfe  ;  becaufe  an 
^'W^Y^  immediate  acceffory  ought  to  partake  the  regularity 
ij  jl^.ju'Tu/d^i  the  principal  objeft  :*  but  in  proportion  to  the 
diflance..  from  the  houfe  confidered  as  the  centre, 

regularity 

*  The  influence  of  this  conne8ion  furpafling  all  hounds,  is  Rill  vifible 
in  many  gardens,  foimed  of  horizontal  plains  forc'd  with  great  labour 
and  cxpenfe,  perpendicular  faces  of  earth  fupported  by  maf- 
fy  flone  walls,  terrace-walks  in  fiages  one  above  another,  regular  ponds 
and  canals  without  the  leaft  motion,  and  the  whole  furroundcd,  like  a 
prifon,  with  high  walls  excludirig every  external  objc6L  At  firii  view  it 
may  puzzlr  one  to  accrmnt  for  a  talle  fo  oppofite  to  nature  in  every  par- 
ticular. But  nothing  happens  without  a  caufe.  Perfeft  regulaiity  ai  d 
Jinifonniiy  are  required  in  a  houfe  ;  and  this  idea  is  extended  to  its  accef- 
fory the  garden,  efpecially  if  it  he  a  fmall  fpot  incapable  of  grandeur  orof 
much  vaiiety  :  the  houfe  is  regular,  fo  mull  the  garden  he  ;  the  floors 
of  the  houfe  are  honzontal,  and  the  garden  muft  have  the  fame  polition  ; 
in  the  houfe  we  are  prote/?ed  from  every  intruding  eye,  fo  muU  we  be 
in  the  garden.  This,  it  muft  be  conftflcd,  i.s  carrying  the  notion  of  re- 
ferablarce  very  far  :  but  where  rcafon  and  taflc  aie  laid  afleep,  rotluiig 
is  more  common  than  to  carry  rcku'.blauce  bevtmd  proper  bounds. 


Ch.  XXIV.    Gardening  and  Archite^iirel  34_g 

regularity  ought  lefs  and  lefs  to  be  fludied  ;  for  in 
an  extenfive  plan,  it  hath  a  fine  efFed  to  lead  the 
mind  infenfibly  from  regularity  to  a  bold  variety. 
Such  arrangement  tends  to  make  an  impreflion  of 
grandeur  :  and  grandeur  ought  to  be  ftudied  as  much 
as  polTible,  even  m  a  more  confined  plan,  by  avoid- 
ing a  multiplicity  of  fmall  parts.*  A  fmall  gardeiK  / 
on  the  other  hand,  which  admits  not  grandeur,  ought/  / 
to  be  flridly  regular. 

Milton,  defcribing  the  garden  of  Eden,  prefers 
juftly  grandeur  before  regularity  : 

Flowers  worthy  of  paradife,    which  not  nice  art 
In  beds  and  curious  knots,  but  Nature  boon 
Pour'd  forth  profufe  on  hil!,  and  dale,  and  plain  ; 
Both  where  the  morning-fun  firrt  warmly  fmote 
The  open  field,  and  where  the  unpierc'd  fhade 
Imbrown'd  the  noontide  bow'rs. 

Paradife  Loji^  h.  4. 

A  hill  covered  v/ith  trees,  appears  more  beautiful  (^'(MeyM, 
as  well  as  more  lofty  than  when  naked.  To  diftrib- 
ute  trees  in  a  plain  requires  more  art  :  near  the 
dwelling-houfe  they  ought  to  be  fcattered  fo  diflant 
from  each  other,  as  not  to  break  the  unity  of  the 
field  ;  and  even  at  the  greateft  diflance  of  di{i:in£t 
vifion,  they  ought  never  to  be  io  crowded  as  to  hide 
any  beautiful  objeft. 

In  the  manner  of  planting  a  wood  or  thicket,  much  / 
art  may  be  difplayed.  A  common  centre  of  walks,  (^hC^'M. 
termed  ajiar^  from  whence  are  feen  remarkable  ob- 
jeds,  appears  too  artificial,  and  confequently  too  fiifF 
and  formal,  to  be  agreeable  :  the  crowding  withal  fo 
many  objefts  together,  lelTens  the  pleafure  that  would 
be  felt  in  a  flower  fucceffion.  Abandoning  therefore 
the  ftar,  let  us  try  to  fubftitute  fome  form  more  nat- 
ural., 

*  See  chap,  4.  » 


34^  Oardenhig  and  Architeciure.     Ch.  XXlVi 

wral,  that  will  difplay  all  the  remarkable  objefts  in 
the  neighbourhood.  This  may  be  done  by  various 
apertures  in  the  wood,  purpofely  contrived  to  lay 
open  fucceffively  every  fuch  object  ;  fometimes  a 
fingle  objeO;,  fometimes  a  plurahty  in  a  line,  and 
fometimes  a  rapid  fucceffion  of  them  :  the  mind  at 
intervals  is  roufed  and  cheered  by  agreeable  objedls : 
and  by  furprife,  upon  viewing  objects  of  which  it  had 
no  expeftationi 

Attending  to  the  influence  of  contrail,  explained 
in  the  eighth  chapter,  we  difcover  why  the  lownefs 
of  the  ceiling  increafes  in  appearance  the  fize  of  a 
large  room,  and  why  a  long  room  appears  ftill  longer 
by  being  very  narrow,  as  is  remarkable  in  a  gallery  : 
by  the  fame  means,  an  object  terminating  a  narrow 
opening  in  a  wood,  appears  at  a  double  diflance. 
/'This  fuggefts  another  rule  for  diftributing  trees  in 
^fome  quarter  near  the  dwelling-houfej:  which  is  to 
place  a  number  of  thickets  in  a  hne,^with  an  open- 
ing ia  each,  directing  the  eye  from  one  to  another  ; 
which  will  make  them  appear  more  diilant  from  each 
other  than  they  are  in  reality,  and  in  appearance  en- 
large the  fize  of  the  whole  field.  To  give  this  plan 
its  utmoft  effefl:,  the  fpacc  between  the  thickets  ought 
to  be  confiderabie  :  and  in  order  that  each  may  be 
feen  diftin£tly,  the  opening  nearell  the  eye  ought  to 
be  wider  than  the  fecond,  the  fecond  wider  than  the 
third,  and  fo  on  to  the  end.* 

By  a  judicious  dillribution  of  trees,  other  beauties 
may  be  produced.  A  landfcape  fo  rich  as  to  ingrols 
the  whole  attention,  and  fo  limited  as   fweetly  to  be 

comprehended 

■*  An  object  will  appear  more  tUHnntlljan  it  really  is,  if  different  col- 
oured evergreens  be  planted  between  it  and  the  eye.  Suppofe  holly  and 
laurel,  and'the  holly  which  is  of  the  deeper  colour,  nearer  the  eye  : 
the  def;r;iclation  of  colour  in  th.e  laurel,  makes  it  appear  at  a  great  dil- 
t/i lice  from  the  holly,  and  confequently  removes  the  objetl,  in  appear- 
hricz,   to  a  greater  difiance  than  it  really  i^. 


Ch.  XXIV.     Gardening  and  Archite^tire.  347 

comprehended  under  a  fingle  view,  has  a  much  finer 
efFed  than  the  mod  extenfive  landfcape  that  requires 
a  wanderinsc  of  the  eve  through  fucceffive  fcenes. 
This  obfervation  fuggefts  a  capital  rule  in  laying  out  /  /f 
a  field  ;  which  is,meyer  at  any  one  ftation  to  admit  fiuH^ 
a  larger  profpedt  than  can  eafily  be  taken  in  at  onceT/ 
A  field  lb  happily  fituatcd  as  to  command  a  great  ex- 
tent  of  profpeft,  is  a  delightful  fubjecl  for  applying 
this  rule  :  let  the  profpecl  be  fplit  into  proper  parts 
by  means  of  trees  ;  lludying  at  the  fame  time  to  in- 
troduce all  the  variety  pofTitDle.  A  plan  of  this  kind 
executed  with  tafle  will  produce  charming  effects  : 
the  beautiful  profpecls  are  multiplied  :  each  of  them 
is  much  more  agreeable  than  the  entire  profpecl  was 
originally  :  and,  to  crown  the  whole,  the  fcenery  is 
greatly  diverfified. 

As  gardening  is  not  an  inventive  art,  but  an  imUj  ^y^J  \ 
tation  of  nature,  or  rather  nature  itfelf  ornamented  d  c//^^*''y 
it  follows  neceffarily,    that    every   thing   unnatural  fi^w^i'tiTm^ 
ought  to  be  rejected  with  difdain.     Statues  of  wild  "Td  w^'^^U 
beads  vomiting  water,  a  common  ornament  in  gar- 
dens, prevail  in  thofe    of  Verfailles.     Is  that  orna- 
ment in  a  good  tade  ?  K  jet  d'eau,  being  purely  ar- 
tificial, may,    without   difgud,    be  tortured    into   a 
thoufand  fliapes  :  but  a  reprefentation  of  what  really 
exids  in  nature,  admits  not  any   unnatural    circum- 
ftance.     In   the  datues   of  Verfailles   the  artid   has 
difplayed  his  vicious  tade  without  the  lead  colour  or 
difguife.     A  lifelefs  datue  of  an  animal  pouring  out 
water,  may  be  endured  without  much  difgud  :  bi.t 
here  the  lions  and  wolves  are  put  in  violent  ailTtion, 
each  has  feized  its  prey,  a  deer  or  a  lamb,  in  aft  to 
devour  ;  and   yet,  as  by  hocus-pocus,  the  whole   is 
converted  into  a  different  fcene  :  the  lion,  forgetting 
his  prey,  pours  out  v/ater  plentifully  ;  and  the  deer, 
•forgetting  its  danger,  performs  the  fame   work  :  a 

reprefentation 


4t-cL   j 


.348  Gardening  mid  Archite8ure.     Ch.  XXIVp 

leprefentatlon  no  lefs  abfurd  than  that  In  the  opern, 
where  Alexander  the  Great,  after  mounting  the  wall 
of  a  town  befieged,  turns  his  back  to  the  enemy,  and 
e;jtertains  his  army  with  a  fong.* 

In  gardening,  every  lively  exhibition  of  what  h 
eautiful  in  nature  has  a  fine  effetl :  on  the  other 
hand,  dhiant  and  faint  imitations  are  difpleafing 
to  every  one  of  taile.  The  cutting  evergreens  iu 
the  fliape  of  animals,  is  very  ancient ;  as  appears 
from  the  epiftles  of  Pliny,  who  feems  to  be  a  great 
admirer  of  the  conceit.  The  propenfity  to  imitation 
gave  birth  to  that  pra£lice  ;  and  has  fupported  it  won- 
derfully long,  confidering  how  faint  and  inhpid  the 
imitation  is.  But  the  vulgar,  great  and  fmail  are  en- 
tertained with  the  oddnefs  and  fnigularity  of  a  refem- 
blance,  however  diftant,  between  a  tree  and  an  ani- 
mal. An  attempt  in  the  gardens  of  Verfailles  to  imitate 
a  grove  of  trees  by  a  group  of  jets  d'eau^  appears,  for 
the  fame  reafon,  no  lefs  childilh. 

In  deiigning  a  garden,  every  thing  trivial  or  whim- 
fical  ought  to  be  avoided.  Is  a  labyrinth  then  to  be 
V^^7  juftified  ?  It  is  a  mere  conceit,  like  that  of  compofmg 
J^f}juJ<j  verfes  in  the  ihape  of  an  axe  or  an  egg  :  the  walks 
and  hedges  may  be  agreeable  ;  but  in  the  form  of  zi 
labyrinth,  they  ferve  to  no  end  but  to  puzzle  :  a  rid- 
dle is  a  conceit  not  fo  mean  ;  becaufe  the  folution  is 
proof  of  fagacity,  which  affords  no  aid  in  tracing  a 
labyrinth. 

The  gardens  of  Verfailles,  executed  with  boundlefs 
€x.penfe  by  the  Ipeft  artifts  of  that  age,  are  a  lading 

monument 

*  Uiloa,  a  Spanifli  writer,  derciibing  the  city  of  Limn,  fays,  that  the 
g^rsiil  fqiiare  is  finely  onrjir.entcd.  "  In  the  centre  Is  a  fountaii),  equaliv 
rcmarkab'e  for  its  grandeur  and  caparifv.  Raifed  above  the  fountain  1? 
e  bronr.f*  Oatue  of  Fan::,  and  four  fmal!  bafons  on  ihe  angles.  The 
water  ifTucs  from  the  truuipcc  of  the  Qatiic,  and  from  the  momhsofeiglu 
iions  furrounrli'^s  it,  v.'hicli  (in  his  opinion}  great!)'  heighten  the  beauty 
f  f  the  '.vh'>l«»," 


Ch.  XXIV".     Gardening  and  Architecture.  349 

monument  of  a  tafle  the  mofh  depraved  :  the  faults 
above  mentioned,  inftead  of  being  avoided,  are  chofen 
as  beauties,  and  multiplied  without  end.  Nature,  it 
v.'ould  feem,  was  deemed  too  vulgar  to  be  imitated 
in  the  works  of  a  magnificent  monarch  :  and  for 
that  reafon  preference  vv^as  given  to  things  unnatural, 
which  probably  were  miftaken  for  fupernatural.  I 
have  often  amufed  myfelf  with  a  fanciful  refemblance 
between  thele  gardens  and  the  Arabian  tales  :  each 
of  them  is  a  performance  intended  for  the  amufe- 
ment  of  a  great  king :  in  the  fixteen  gardens  of 
Verfailles  there  is  no  unity  of  defign,  more  than  in 
the  thoufand  and  one  Arabian  tales :  and,  lallly,  they 
are  equally  unnatural ;  groves  of  jcfs  d'eau^  flatues 
of  a^jimals  converfrng  in  the  manner  of  .^Sifop,  wa- 
ter ifluing  out  of  the  mouths  of  wild  beafe,  give  an 
impreffion  of  faix"y-land  and  witchcraft,  no  kfs  than 
diamond-palaces,  invifible  rings,  Ir^ells  and  incanta- 
tions. 

A  flraight  road  Is  the  moft  agreeable,  becaufe  it 
.(liortens  the  journey.  But  in  an  embeliifhed  field -^ 
a  flraight  walk  has  an  air  of  formality  and  confine- 
ment :  and  at  any  rate  is  lefs  agreeable  than  a  wind- 
ing or  waving  walk  ;  for  in  furveying  the  beauties  of 
an  ornamented  field,  we  love  to  roam  from  place  to 
place  at  freedom.  Winding  walks  have  another  ad- 
vantage :  at  e^'ery  flep  they  open  new  views.  In  iliort, 
the  walks  in  pleafure-ground  ought  not  to  have  any  ap< 
pearance  of  a  road:  my  intention  is  not  to  make  a  jour^ 
neybut  to  feaft  myeyeonthebcauties  of  art  and  nature.. 
This  rule  excludes  not  openings  directing  the  eye  to 
diftant  obje6ls.  Such  openings,  befide  variety,  iire 
agreeable  in  various  refpeds  :  firll:,  as  obfc-rved  above, 
they  extend  in  appearance  the  fize  ef  the  field  :  next, 
an  objed,  at  whatever  diflance,  continues  the  open- 
ing, and  deludes  the  fj^edator  into  a  conviction,  that 

the 


hciiM 


2^9"  Gardening  and  Archite8ur€c     Ch.  XXlV* 

the  trees  which  confine  the  view  are  continued  till 
they  join  the  object.  Sraight  walks  in  recefles  do 
well :  they  vary  the  fcenery,  and  are  favourable  to 
meditation. 

Avoid  a  flraight  avenue  direded  upon  a  dwelling- 
.AJf-  houfe  :  better  far  an  oblique  approach  in  a  waving 
,  '  line,  with  fingle  trees  and  other  fcattered  objefts  in- 
^^;'*''*^  /terpofed.  In  a  direO:  approach,  the  fir  ft  appearance 
l*^  «/v^t^3  continued  to  the  end  :  we  fee  a  houfe  at  a  diftance, 
-<  and  we  fee  it  all  along  in  the  fame  fpot  without  any  va- 

riety. In  an  obhque  approach,  the  interpofed  objeds 
put  the  houfe  feemingly  in  motion  :  it  moves  with 
the  palfenger,  and  appears  to  direct  its  courfe  fo  as 
hofpitably  to  intercept  him.  An  oblique  approach 
contributes  alfo  to  variety  :  the  houfe,  feen  fuccef- 
fively  in  different  directions,  affumes  at  each  ftep  a 
new  fioure. 

o 

r-  A  garden  on  a  flat  ought  to  be  highly  and  vari- 
efbW-oufly  ornamented,  in  order  to  occupy  the  mind,  and 
(j;revent  our  regretting  the  infipidity  of  an  uniform 
plain.  Artificial  mounts  in  that  view  are  common  : 
but  no  perfon  has  thought  of  an  artificial  walk  elevat- 
ed high  above  the  plain.  Such  a  walk  is  airy,  and 
tends  to  elevate  the  mind  :  it  extends  and  varies  the 
profpect  ;  and  it  makes  the  plain,  feen  from  a  height, 
appear  more  agreeable. 
[  Whether  fliould  a  ruin  be  in  the  Gothic  or  Gre- 
-y^JU-d  \  clan  form  ?  In  the  former,  I  think  ;  becaufe  it  ex- 
.  I  hibits  the  triumph  of  time  over  ftrength  ;  a  melan- 
choly, but  not  unpleafant  thought  :  a  Grecian  ruin 
fuggeils  rather  the  triumph  of  barbarity  over  tafte  j  a 
gloomy  and  difcouraging  thought. 

There  are  not  many  fountains  in  a  good  taftcr 
Statues  of  anininls  vomiting  water,  w^hich  prevail 
every  where,  ftand  condemned  as  unnatural.  A  ftatue 
of  a  whale  fpouting  water  upv/ard  from  its  head  is  in 

one 


A^ 


Ch.  XXIV.    Gardening  and  Ai'chkedure*  351 

one  fenfe  natural,  as  certain  whales  have  that  power; 
but  it  is  a  fufficient  objeclion,  that  its  fingularity 
would  make  it  appear  unnatural  ;  there  is  another 
reafon  againfl  it,  that  the  figure  of  a  whale  is  in  itfelf 
not  agreeable.  In  many  Roman  fountains,  ftatues 
of  fifhes  are  employed  to  fupport  a  large  bafon  of 
water.  This  unnatural  conceit  is  not  accountable, 
tinlefs  from  the  connection  that  water  hath  with  the  fifli 
that  fwim  in  it ;  which  by  the  way  fhows  the  influ- 
ence of  even  the  llighter  relations.  The  bell  defign 
for  a  fountain  I  have  met  with,  is  what  follows.  In. 
an  artificial  rock,  rugged  and  abrupt,  there  is  a  cav* 
ity  out  of  fight  at  the  top  :  the  water  conveyed  to  it 
by  a  pipe,  pours  or  trickles  down  the  broken  parts 
of  the  rock,  and  is  collefted  into  a  bafon  at  the 
foot  :  it  is  fo  contrived  as  to  make  the  water  fall  in 
fheets  or  in  rills  at  pleafure. 

Hitherto  a  garden  has  been  treated  as  a  work  in- 
tended folely  for  pleafure,  or,  in  other  words,  for  giv- 
ing impreffions  of  intrinfic  beauty.  What  comes 
next  in  order,  is  the  beauty  of  a  garden  deftined  for 
ufe,  termed  relative  beauty  ;*  and  this  branch  fliall  b 
difpatched  in  a  few  words.  In  gardening,  luckily 
relative  beauty  need  never  fland  in  oppofition  to  in 
trinfic  beauty  :  all  the  ground  that  can  be  requifit 
for  ufe,  makes  but  a  fmall  proportion  of  an  orna 
jnented  field  :  and  may  be  put  in  any  corner  without 
obfiiruding  the  difpofition  of  the  capital  parts.  At 
the  fame  time,  a  kitchen-garden  or  an  orchard  is  fuf- 
ceptible  of  intrinfic  beauty  ;  and  may  be  fo  artfully 
difpofed  among  the  other  pares,  as  by  variety  and  con- 
trail to  contribute  to  the  beauty  of  the  whole.  In 
this  refpeft,  architecture  requires  a  greater  flretch  of 
art,  as  v/ill  be  feen  immediately  ;  for  as  intrinfic  and 
relative  beauty  mull  often  be  blended  in  the  fame 

building, 

*  See  thcfs  terms  defined,  Chap.  t. 


35  2i  Carde7i'mg  and  Archlte^ure,     Ch.  XXIV. 

building,  it  becomes  a  difficult  tafe  to  attain  both  in 
any  perfeftion. 
U  In  a  hot  country  it  is  a  capital  objed  to  have  what 

/  may  be  termed  ^fum?ner-garden  ;  that  is,  a  fpot  of 

/ffiWyvu'-r^j.Qyj-i^j  (jifpofed  by  art  and  by  nature  to  exclude  the 
f.Ji^yd/)  iun,  but  to  give  free  accefs  to  the  air.  In  a  cold 
^^  J  country,  the  capital  objed  Ihould  be  a  wintei'-garde?!^ 
(fg/lAAT^open  to  the  fun,  fheltered  from  wind,  dry  under  foot, 
/and  taking  on  the  appearance  of  fummer  by  va- 
riety of  evergreens.  The  relilh  of  a  country-life,  to- 
tally extind  in  France,  is  decaying  fail  in  Britain. 
But  as  flill  many  people  of  fafliion,  and  fome  of  tafte, 
pafs  the  v/inter,  or  part  of  it,  in  the  country,  it  is 
amazing  that  winter-gardens  fhould  be  overlooked. 
During  fummer,  every  field  is  a  garden  ;  but  during 
half  of  the  year,  the  weather  is  feldom  fo  good  in 
Britain  as  to  afford  comfort  in  the  open  air  without 
fhelter  ;  and  yet  feldom  fo  bad  as  not  to  afford  com- 
fort with  fhelter.  I  fay  more,  that  befide  providing 
for  exercife  and  health,  a  winter-garden  may  be  made 
fubfervient  to  education,  by  introducing  a  habit  of 
thinking.  In  youth,  lively  fpiiits  give  too  great  a* 
propenfity  to  pleafure  and  amufement,  making  us 
averfe  to  ferious  occupation.  That  untoward  bias 
may  be  correded  in  fome  degree  by  a  winter-garden, 
which  produces  in  the  mind  a  calm  fatisfadion,  free 
from  agitation  of  paflion,  whether  gay  or  gloomy  j  a 
fine  tone  of  mind  for  meditation  and  reafoning.* 

Gardening 

*  A  correfpondent,  whofe  name  I  hitherto  have  concealed,  that  I 
might  not  be  thought  vain,  and  which  I  can  no  longer  conceal  [a,)  writes 
to  me  as  follows  :  "  In  life  we  generally  lay  our  account  with  profperi- 
ty,  and  feldom,  very  feldom,  prepare  for  adverlity.  We  carry  that  pro- 
penfity even  into  the  flrufture  of  our  gardens:  we  cultivate  the  gay  or- 
naments of  fummer,  relifhing  no  plants  but  what  flourifli  by  mild 
dews  and  graciou;  funflunc  :  we  banifli  from  our  thoughts  ghadly 
winter,  when  the  benign  influences  of  the  f  m  cheering  us  m  more, 
are  doubly  regretted  bv  yeilding  to  the  piercing  non'i  wind  and  nip- 
ping froft.  Sage  is  the  gardener,  in  the  metaphorical  as  well  as 
literal  fenfe,    who  procuies  a  friendly  {helter  to  proteft  us  from   Dc« 

ccciber 
(aj  Mrs.  Montagu, 


Cii.  XXIV.     Garde ?uj!x  and  ArchiuBiife, 


353 


Gardening  being  in  China  brought  to  greater  per:-, 
fection  than  in  any  other  known  country,  we   Ihall       , 
clofe  our  prefent  fubjccl  with   a  flight  view  of  the   /         J 
Chinefe   gardens,  which  are  found  entirely  obfequi-    /^^  If 
ous  to  the  principles  that  govern  every   one   of  the  jc/'^^ 
fine  arts.  In  general,  it  is  an  indifpenfable  law  there^  . 

never  to  deviate  from  nature  :  but  in  order  to  pro-  ^^^VV'T 
duce  that  degree  of  variety  which  is  pleafmg,  every  iIza^iM^^ 
method  confident  with  nature  is  put  in  praftice.  Na-     f  , 

ture  is  llridly  imitated  in  the  banks  of  their  artificial  iW^>^^  ' 
lakes  and   rivers  ;  which   fometimes   are  bare    and  ^tc-v'^-y 
gravelly,    fometimes  covered    with   wood    quite    to , 
the  brink  of  the  water.     To  flat  fpots  adorned  v.'ith 
flowers  and  (lirubs,are  oppofed  others  ileepand  rocky* 
We  fee  meadows  covered  with  cattle  ;  rice  grounds 
that  run  into  lakes;  groves  into  which  enter  navigable 
creeks  and  rivulets  :  thcfe  generally  conducb  to  fome 
intereiling  objecl,  a  magnificent  building,  terraces  cut 
in  a  mountain,  a  cafcade,  a  grotto,  an  artificial  rock. 
Their  artificial  rivers  are  generally  ferpentine  ;  fome- 
times narrow,   noify,   and   rapid  ;  fometimes    deep, 
broad,  and  flow  :  and  to   make   the  fcene  flill  more 
atlive,  mills  and  other  moving   machines   are  often 
creeled.     In  the  lakes  are  interiperfed  iflands  ;  fome 
barren,   furrounded  with   rocks  and  flioals  ;  others 
enriched  with  evety  thing   that  art   and  nature  caa 
furniHi.     Even  in  their  cafcades  they  avoid  regulari- 
ty, as  forcing  nature  out  of  its  courfe  :  the  waters  are 
ieen  burft:ing  from  the   caverns  and  windings  of  the 
artificial  rocks,   here  a  roaring  catarad,  there  many 
gentle  falls  ;  and  the  ftream  often  impeded  by  trees 
and  ftones,  that  feem  brought  down    by  the  violence 

of 

Climber  florms,  and  ciiltivptps  the  plants  that  adorn  and  enliven  tliat  dreary      «, 
fonlon.      He  is  no  pliilofopher  who  cannot    retire  into  the  Stoic's    wa  k, 
when  the  garden*;  of  Epicurus  are  out  of  bloonn  :    he  is  too  much  a  phi- 
lofooher  who  will  ri^idiv  profcribe  the  flowers  and  aromatics  of  fammcrj 
«i)  fit  confiamly  under  the  cvprefs  fliade.'* 

Vol.  II.  Y 


354  Gardening  and  Archiieclure.     Ch.  XXlV* 

of  the  current.  Straight  lines  are  fometimes  indulg- 
ed, in  order  to  keep  in  view  fome  interefting  object 
at  a  diitance. 

Senfible  of  the  influence  of  contraft,  the  Chinefe 
/  jf  Jj  artiflis  deal  in  fudden  tranfitions,  and  in  oppofmg  to 
7h^(ffnrMr  ^^^^  other,  forms,  colours,  and  fliades.  The  eye  is 
^  conducted,  from  limited  to  extenfive  views,  and  from 
^'^'^r.  lakes  and  rivers  to  plains,  hills,  and  woods  :  to  dark 
and  gloomy  colours,  are  oppofed  the  more  brilliant : 
the  different  malfes  of  light  and  fliade  are  difpofed  in 
fuch  a  manner,  as  to  render  the  compofition  diftindt 
in  its  parts,  and  ftriking  on  the  whole.  In  planta- 
tions, the  trees  are  artfully  mixed  according  to  their 
Ihape  and  colour  ;  thofe  of  fpreading  branches  v/ith 
the  pyramidal,  and  the  light  green  with  the  deep 
green.  They  even  introduce  decayed  trees,  fome 
erect,  and  fome  half  out  of  the  ground.*  In  order 
to  heighten  contrail,  much  bolder  ftrokes  are  rifked  : 
they  fometimes  introduce  rough  rocks,  dark  caverns,, 
tfees  ill  formed,  and  feemingly  rent  by  tempefts,or 
blalted  by  lightning  ;  a  building  in  ruins,  or  half 
confumed  by  lire.  But  to  relieve  the  mind  from  the 
harllinefs  of  fuch  objects,  the  fweetefl  and  mofl  beau- 
tiful fcenes  always  fucceed. 

The  Chinefe  fludy  to  give  play  to  the  imagination : 

hey  hide  the  termination  of  their  lakes  ;  and  com- 

,         '  monly   interrupt   the   view   of  a   cafcade  by    trees, 

^~~  through  which  are  feen  obfcurely  the  waters  as  they 

fall.     The  imagination  once   roufed,   is  difpofed  to 

magnify  every  objedt. 

Nothing  is  more  ftudied  in  Chinefe  gardens  than 
to  raife  wonder  or  furprife.  In  fcenes  calculated  for 
that  end,  every  thing  appears  like  fairy-land  ;  a  tor- 
rent, for  example,  conveyed  under  ground,  puzzles 

.a  ftranger 

•*  Tafle  hes  fuggeHed  to  Kent  the  fame  artifice.  A  decayed  tree 
placed  properly,  contTibutes  lo  coiuraft  ;  and  alfo  in  a  penlivc  or  fedaie 
Date  of  mind  produces  a  fort  of  pity,  grounded  on  an  jmnsmary  pcifor!- 
j(icaiion. 


fy\A4A 


LtUi^l 


Ch.  XXIV.     Gardenmg  and  ArchiteBure*  2,S$ 

a  ftranger  by  its  uncommon  found  to  guefs  what  it 
may  be  ;  and  to  multiply  fuch  uncommon  founds,  the 
rocks  and  buildings  are  contrived  with  cavities  and 
interftices.  Sometimes  one  is  led  infenfibly  into  a 
dark  cavern,  terminating  unexpectedly  in  a  landfcape 
enriched  with  'all  that  nature  affords  the  moft  deli- 
cious. At  other  times,  beautiful  walks  infenfibly 
condud  to  a  rough  uncultivated  field,  where  bufhes, 
briers,  and  flones  interrupt  the  paffage  :  looking 
about  for  an  outlet,  fome  rich  profped  unexpectedly 
opens  to  view.  Another  artifice  is,  to  obfcure  fome 
capital  part  by  trees,  or  other  interpofed  objefts  : 
our  curiofity  is  raifed  to  know  what  lies  beyond  ;  and 
after  a  few  fleps,  we  are  greatly  furprifed  v^ith  fome 
fcene  totally  different  from  what  was  expelled. 

Thefe  curfory  obfervations  upon  gardening,  fhall 
be  clofed  with  fome  reflections  that  mufl  touch  every 
readei'.     Rough  uncultivated  ground,  difmal  to  the 
eye,  infpires   peevifhnefs   and  difcontent  :  may  not 
this  be  one  caufe  of  the  harfh  manners  of  favages  ? 
A  field  richly  ornamented,   containing  beautiful  ob- 
jects of  various  kinds,  difplays  in  full  luflre  the  good- 
nefs  of  the  Deity,   and  the  ample  provifion  he  has 
made  for  our  happinefs.     Ought  not  the  fpeftator  to 
be  filled  with  gratitude  to  his  Maker,  and  with  be- 
nevolence to  his  fellow  creatures  ?  Other  fine  arts 
may  be  perverted  to  excite  irregular,   and  even  vic- 
ious  emotions  :  but  gardening,  which  infpires  the 
purefl  and  moft  refined  pleafures,  cannot  fail  to  pro- 
mote every  good  affeftion.     The  gaiety  and  harmo- 
ny of  mind  it  produceth,  inclining  the  fpedator  to 
communicate  his  fatisfadion  to  others,  and  to  maks 
them  happy  as  he  is  himfelf,  tend  naturally  to  cflab- 
lifh  in  him  a  habit  of  humanity  and  benevolence.* 

It 

*  The  manufaflures  of  filk,  flax,  and  cotton,  in  tlieir  prpferit  advance 
tov,-ar<l  pcif.ci  on,  may  be  held  as  inferior  branches  of  ihc  fine  nns ;    be- 
cauTe  their  prcduftions  in  drefi  and  iu   furniture  infpirC;  like  them,  gay 
ard  kindly  emotions  favourable  to  morality. 
¥2 


35^  Gardening  and  Architeclure.     C h.  X XIV  <<' 

It  is  not  eafy  to  fupprefs  a  degree  of  enthufiafnij 
when  we  refleft  on  the  advantages  of  gardening  with 
refped  to  virtuous  education.  In  the  beginning  of 
life  the  deepeft  impreflions  are  made  ;  and  it  is  a  fad 
truth,  that  the  young  ftudent,  famiharized  to  the 
dirtinefs  and  diforder  of  many  colleges  pent  within 
narrov.^  bounds  in  populous  cities,  is  rendered  in  a 
meafure  infenfible  to  the  elegant  beauties  of  art  and 
nature.  Is  there  no  man  of  fortune  fufficlently  patri- 
otic to  think  of  reforming  this  evil  ?  It  feems  to  me 
far  from  an  exaggeration,  that  good  profeflbrs  are 
not  more  eflential  to  a  college,  than  a  fpacious  gar- 
den fweetly  ornamented,  but  without  any  thing  glar- 
ing or  fantafcic,  fo  as  upon  the  whole  to  infpire  our 
Youth  with  a  tafte  no  lefs  for  fmiplicity  than  for  ele- 
gance. In  that  refpedl,  the  univerfity  of  Oxford  may 
juftly  be' deemed  a  modelv 


\ 


•XiwZ; 


Having  finifhed  what  occurred  6n  gardening,  I 
tto/ptBc^ed  to  rules  and  obfervations  that  more  peculiar- 
ly concern  architedure.     Architeclure,  being  an  ufe- 
ful  as  well  as  a  fine  art,  leads  us  to  diftinguiih  build- 
/    jngs  and  parts  of  buildings  into  three  kinds,  namely, 

3  what  are  intended  for  utility  folely,  what  for  orna- 
ment folely,  and  what  for  both.  Buildings  intended 
'for  utihty  folelv,  fuch  as  detached  offices,  ought  in 
every  part  to  correfpond  precifely  to  that  intention  ; 
the  flighteft  deviation  from  the  end  in  view,  will  by 
every  perfon  of  tafte,  be  thought  a  blemifli.  In  gen- 
eral, it  is  the  perfedion  of  every  work  of  art,  that  it 
fulfils  the  purpofe  for  which  it  is  intended  ;  and  every 
other  beauty,  in  oppofitionj  is  iinproper.  But  in 
things  intended  for  ornament,  fuch  as  pillars,  ob-- 
elifks,  triumphal  arches,  beauty  ought  alone  to  be 
regarded.  A  Heathen '  temple  muft  be  confidered 
as  merely  ornamental  j  for  being  dedicated  to  foine 

deity. 


(Zh.  XXIV.     Gardening  and  ArchltcBurc* 


157 


'  deity^  and  not  intended  for  habitation,  it  is  fufceptible  ( 
-oi  any  figure  and  any  embellifnment  that  fancy  can  ) 
fuggell  and  beauty  admit.     The   great  difficulty  of 
icontrivance,  refpeds  buildings  that  are  intended  to 
be  ufeful  as  well  as  ornamental.     Thcfe  ends,   em- 
ploying different  and  often  oppofite  means,   are   fel- 
dom  united  in  perfection  ;  and  the  only  practicable 
method  in  fuch  buildings  is,  t.o  favour  ornament  lefs 
or  more  according  to  the  character  of  the  building  : 
in  palaces,  and  other  edifices  fufficiently  extenfive  to 
admit  a  variety  of  ufeful  contrivance,  regularity  jmffly 
|:akes  the  lead  ;  but  in  dwelling-houfes  that  are  toa 
fmall  for  variety  of  contrivance,  utility  ought  to  pre 
vail,  neglecting  regularity  as  far  as  it  ftands  in  oppo 
lition  to  convenience.* 

Intrinfic  and  relative  beauty  being  founded  on  dii> 
ferent  principles,  muff  be  handled  feparateiy.  I  be- 
gin with  relative  beauty,  as  of  the  greater  import- 
ance. 

The  proportions  of  a  door  are  determined  by  the 
ufe  to  which  it  is  deffined.  The  door  of  a  dwelling- 
houfe,  which  ought  to  correfpond  to  the  human  fize, 
is  confined  to  feven  or  eight  feet  in  height,  and  three 
or  four  in  breadth,.  The  proportions  proper  for  the 
door  of  a  barn  or  coach-houfe,  are  widely  different. 
Another  confideration  enters.  To  ftudy  intrinfic 
l^eauty  in  a  coach-houfe  or  barn,  inr?ended  merely 
for  ufe.  Is  obviouffy  improper.  But  a  dwelling-houfe 
may  admit  ornaments  ;  and  the  principal  door  of  a 
palace  demands  all  the  grandeur  that  is  confiftent 
with  the  foregoing  proportions  dictated  by  utility  :  it 
pught  to  be  elevated,  and  approached  by  ffeps  ;  and 

it 

*  A  building  mufl  be  large  to  produce  anv  fonfihle  C'notion  of  jeg\\- 
larity,  proportion,  or  beauty  ;  wliicli  is  an  additional  lealon  for  miiidirg 
5,'->nvcniencc  o:)!/  in  a  dwelling-houle  of  Imall  iizc. 

Y  -s 


CntM^j^U 


358  Cardenmg  and  Archlteclttre.     Ch.  XXIV*, 

it  may  be  adorned  with  pillars  fupporting  an  archi- 
trave, or  in  any  other  beautiful  manner.  The  door 
of  a  church  ought  to  be  wide,  in  order  to  afford  au 
eafy  paflage  for  a  multitude  :  the  width,  at  the  fame 
time,  regulates  the  height,  as  will  appear  by  and  by. 
The  fize  of  windows  ought  to  be  proportioned  to  that 
of  the  room  they  illuminate  ;  for  if  the  apertures  be 
not/afficiently  large  to  convey  light  to  every  corner, 
the  room  is  unequally  lighted,  which  is  a  great  de- 
formity. The  (leps  of  a  Itair  ought  to  be  accommo- 
dated to  the  human  figure,  without  regarding  any 
other  proportion  :  they  are  accordingly  the  fame  in. 
large  and  in  fmall  buildings,  becaufe  both  are  In^* 
habited  by  men  of  the  fame  fize, 

I  proceed  to  confider  intrinfic  beauty  blended  with 
that  which  is  relative.     Though  a  cube   in  Itfelf  is 
^^-^n.  y  >^^niore  agreeable  than  a  parallelopipedon,  yet  a  large 
jj^_"i|^J^  fet  on  its  fmaller  bafe,  is  by  Its  ele- 

jLx^^_JT    vation  more  agreeable;  and  hence  the  beauty  of  a 
Tv*^  Gothic  tower.     But  fuppofmg  this    figure  to  be  def- 

tined  for  a  dwelling-houfe,  to  make  way  for  rela- 
tive beauty,  v/e  immediately  perceive  that  utility 
ought  chiefly  to  be  regarded,  and  that  the  figure,  in- 
convenient by  its  height,  ought  to  be  fet  upon  its 
larger  bafe  :  the  loftinefs  is  gone  ;  but  that  lofs  is 
more  than  compenfated  by  additional  convenience  ; 
for  which  reafcn,  a  figure  fpread  more  upon  the 
ground  than  raifed  in  height,  is  always  preferred  for 
a  dwelling-houfe,  without  excepting  even  the  moil 
fuperb  palace. 

As  to  the  divifions  within,  utility  requires  that  the 
rooms  be  redangular  ;  for  otherwife  void  fpaces  will 
be  left,  which  are  of  no  ufe.  A  hexagonal  figure 
leaves  no  void  fpaces  ;  but  it  determines  the  rooms  to 
be  all  of  one  fize,  wlilch  is  inconvenient.  A  room  of 
,  a  moderate  fize  may  be  a  fquare  5  but.  in  very  large 

rooms 


Ch.  XXIV.     Gardening  and  ArchiUdure,  359 

rooms  this  figure  muft,  for  the  mofl  part,  give  place  to 
a  parallelogram,  which  can  more  eafiiy  be  adjufted, 
than  a  fqiiare,  to  the  fmaller  rooms  contrived  entire- 
ly for  convenience.  A  parallelogram,  at  the  fame 
time,  is  the  bell  calculated  for  receiving  light  ;  be- 
caufe,  to  avoid  crofs  lights,  all  the  vifindows  ought  to 
be  in  one  wall ;  and  the  oppofite  wall  muft  be  fo 
near  as  to  be  fully  lighted,  otherwife  the  room  will 
be  obfcure.  The  height  of  a  room  exceeding  nine  or 
•ten  feet,  has  little  or  no  relation  to  utility  j  and  there- 
fore proportion  is  the  only  rule  for  determining  a 
greater  height. 

As  all  artifts  who  love  what  is  beautiful,  are  prone  to 
;entertain  the  eye,  they  have  opportunity  to  exert  their 
iaite  upon  palaces  and  fumptuous  buildings,  where,  as 
above  obferved,  intrinfic  beauty  ought  to  have  the  af- 
cendant  over  that  which  is  relative.  But  fuch  pro- 
pen  fity  is  unhappy  with  refpett  to  dwelling-houfes  of 
moderate  fize  ;  becaufe  in  thefe,  intrinfic  beauty  can- 
not be  difplayed  in  any  perfection,  without  wound- 
ing relative  beauty  :  a  fmall  houfe  admits  not  much 
variety  of  form  ;  and  in  fuch  houfes  there  is  no  in- 
stance of  internal  conveiiizrxe  being  accurately  ad- 
jufted to  external  regularity  :  I  am  apt  to  believe 
that  it  is  beyond  the  reach  of  art.  And  yet  architeits 
never  give  over  attempting  to  reconcile  thefe  two  in- 
compatibles :  how  otherwife  fliould  it  happen,  that 
of  the  endlefs  variety  of  private  dweUing-houfes, 
there  is  fcarce  an  inftance  of  any  one  being  chofen  for 
a  pattern  ?  the  unwearied  propenfity  to  make  a  houfe 
regular  as  well  as  convenient,  forces  the  archited:,  in 
fam.e  articles  to  facrihce  convenience  to  regularity, 
and  in  others,  regularity  to  convenience  ;  and  the 
lioufe  which  turns  out  neither  regular  nor  conveni- 
ent, never  fails  to  diiphafc  :  the  faults  are  obvious  j, 

and 
Y  4 


iJ«Mn> 


'3^0  Gardening  and  ArchiteBure.     Ch.  jtXiV* 

and  the  difficulty   of  doing  better  is  known  to  the 
artift  only.* 

Nothing  can  be  more  evident,  than  that  the  form 
of  a  dwelHng-houfe  ought  to  be  fuited  to  the  climate  : 
and  yet  no  error  is  more  common,  than  to  copy  in 
Britain  the  form  of  Italian  houfes  ;  not  forgetting 
even  thofe  parts  that  are  purpofely  contrived  for  air, 
and  for  excluding  the  fun.  I  fliall  give  one  or  two 
inftances.  A  colonnade  along  the  front  of  a  build- 
ing, hath  a  fine  effe^St  in  Greece  and  Italy,  by  pro- 
ducing coolnefs  and  obfcurity,  agreeable  properties 
in  warm  and  luminous  climates :  but  the  cold  climate 
of  Britain  is  altogether  averfe  to  that  ornament ;  and 
therefore,  a  colonnade  can  n^ver  be  proper  in  this 
country,  unlefs  for  a  portico,  or  to  communicate  with 
a  detached  building.  Again,  a  logio  laying  the  houfe 
open  to  the  north,  contrived  in  Italy  for  gathering 
cool  air,  is,  if  pollibie,  ftill  more  improper  for  this 
climate:  fcarce  endurable  in- fummer,  it,  in  winter, 
cxpofes  the  houfe  to  the  bitter  blafls  of  the  north,  and 
to  every  Ihower  of  fnovv  and  rain. 

Having  faid  what  appeared  neceffary  upon  relative 

auty,  the  next  ftep  is,  to  view  architetlure  as  one 

^of  the  fine  arts  ;  which  will  lead  us  to  the  examina- 

'  tion  of  fuch  buildings,  and  parts  of  buildings,  as  are 

'  calculated  folely  to  pleafe  the  eye.  ,  In  the  works  of 
Nature,  rich  and  magnificent,  variety  prevails  ;  and 
in  works  of  Art  that  are  contrived  to  imitate  Nature, 
the  great  art  is  to  hide  every  appearance  of  art ;  which 
IS  done  by  avoiding  regularity,  and  indulging  variety. 
But  in  works  of  art  that  are  original,  and  not  imitative, 
the  timid  hand  is  guided  by  rule  and  compafs  ;  and 
accordingly  in  architefture  ftriO:  regularity  and  uni- 
formity are  fcudied,  as  far  as  confident  with  utility. 

T  Proportion 

I       t  "  Houfes  are  built  to  live  in,  and  not  to  look  on.;  therefore  let  ufc 
be  preferred  before  uniformity,  except  whcie  both  may  be  had  " 

Lord  Vcrv.lavi,  <Jfay  ^5, 


Cti.  XXIV.     Qarden'mg  and  ArchitcBurs*  3^1 

Proportion  is  no  lefs  agreeable  than  regularity  and  6 
linlibrraity  :  and  therefore  in  buildings  intended  to 
pleafe  the  eye,  they  are  all  equally  efiential.  By  many 
writers  it  is  taken  for  granted,  that  in  buildings  there 
are  ■  certain  proportions  that  pleafe  the  eye,  as  in 
founds  there  are  certain  proportions  that  pleafe  the  ear, 
and  that  in  both  equally  the  ffightell  deviation  from 
the  precife  proportion  is  difagreeable*  Others  feem 
to  relifh  more  a  coniparifon  between  proportion  in 
numbers  and  proportion  in  quantity  ;  and  hold  that 
the  fame  proportions  are  agreeable  in  both.  The 
proportions  for  example,  of  the  numbers  i6,  24,  and 
'^^6^  are  agreeable  ;  and  fo,  fay  they,  are  the  propor- 
tions of  a  room,  the  height  of  which  is  16  feet,  the 
breadth  24,  and  the  length  O)^.  May  I  hope  foni 
the  reader,  that  he  will  patiently  accompany  rae  in 
examining  this  point,  which  is  ufeful  as  well  as  cu- 
rious. To  refute  the  notion  of  a  refemblance  be- 
tween muiieal  proportions  and  thofe  of  architecture, 
it  might  be  fufficient  to  obferve  in  general,  that  the 
one  is  addrefied  to  the  ear,  the  other  to  the  eye  ;  and 
that  objects  of  different  fenfes  have  no  refemblance, 
nor  indeed  any  relation  to  each  other.  But  more 
particularly,  what  pieafes  the  ear  in  harmony,  is  not 
proportion  among  the  firings  of  the  inltrument,  buo 
among  the  founds  that  thefe  ilrings  produce.  In 
architeclure,  on  the  contrary,  it  is  the  proportion  of 
different  quantities  that  pleafe  the  eye,  without  the 
lead  relation  to  found.  Were  quantity  to  be  the 
ground  of  coniparifon,  we  have  no  reafon  to  pre- 
funie,  that  there  is  any  natural  analogy  between  the 
proportions  that  pleafe  in  a  building,  and  the  pro-= 
portions  of  firings  that  produce  concordant  founds, 
i^et  us  take  for  example  an  oclave,  produced  by  two 
limilar  firings,  the  one  double  of  the  other  in  length: 

this 


\ 


362  Gardening  and  Ahhiteclure,     Ch.  XXI V^. 

this  Is  the  mod  perfed  of  all  concords ;  and  yet  I 
know  not  that  the  proportion  of  one  to  two  is  agree- 
able in  any  two  parts  of  a  building.  I  add,  that  con. 
cordant  notes  are  produced  by  wind-inflruments, 
which,  as  to  proportion,  appear  not  t^  have  even  the 
flighted  refemblance  to  a  building. 

With  refped  to  the  other  notion,  namely,  a  com«. 
parifon  between  proportion  in  numbers  and  propor- 
tion in  quantity  ;  I  urge,  that  nuniber  and  quantity 
are  fo  different,  as  to  afford  no  probability  of  any 
natural  relation  between  them.  A  Quantity  is  a  real 
quahty  of  every  body);  number  is  not  a  real  quality, 
but  merely  an  idea  jftiat  arifes  upon  viewing  a  plu- 
rality of  things,  whether  conjunctly  or  in  fucceffion. 
An  arithmetical  proportion  is  agreeable  in  numbers  ; 
but  have  we  any  reafon  to  infer  that  it  mufl  alfo  be 
agreeable  in  quantity  ?  At  that  rate,  a  geometrical 
proportion,  and  many  others  which  are  agreeable  in 
numbers,  ought  alfo  to  be  agreeable  in  quantity.  In 
an  endlefs  variety  of  proportions,  it  would  be  won- 
derful, if  there  never  fhould  happen  a  coincidence  of 
any  one  agreeable  proportion  in  both.  One  exam- 
ple is  given  in  the  numbers  16,  24,  and  n^^  ;  but  to 
be  convinced  that  this  agreeable  coincidence  is  mere- 
ly accidental,  we  need  only  reflecl:,  that  the  fame 
proportions  are  not  applicable  to  the  external  figure 
of  a  houfe,  and  far  lefs  to  a  column. 

That  we  are  framed  by  nature  to  relifh  proportion 
as  well  as  regularity,  is  indifputable  ;  but  that  agree- 
able proportion  Ihould,  like  concord  in  founds,  be 
confined  to  certain  precife  meafures,  is  not  warranted 
by  experience  :  on  the  contrary,  we  learn  from  ex- 
perience, that  proportion  admits  more  and  lefs  ;  that 
feveral  proportions  are  each  of  them  agreeable  ;  and 
that  we  are  not  fenfible  of  difproporLion,  till  the  dir- 
ference  between  the  quantities  compared  become  the 

mod 


-iCH.  XXIV.     Gardening  and  Architeclure.  363 

Tnoll  ftrlking  circumftance.     Columns  evidently  ad-  , 
mit  different  proportions,  equally  agreeable  ;  and  fo 
do  houfes,  rooms,   and   other  parts  of  a  building, 
Tiiis  leads  to  an  interefting  refiedion  :  the  foregoing 
difference  betv/een  concord  and  proportion,  is  an  ad- 
ditional inftance  of  that  admirable  harmony  which 
fubfifts  among  the  feveral  branches  of  the  human 
frame.     The  ear  is  an  accurate  judge  of  founds,  and  ! 
pf  their   fmalled  differences  ;    and  that  concord   in, 
founds  fhould  be  regulated  by  accurate  mcafures,  is  ' 
perfeftly  well  fuitefd  to  this  accuracy  of  perception  : 
the  eye  is   more  uncertain  about  the  fize  of  a  large 
pbjeft,  than  of  one  that  is  fmall ;  and  at  a  diflance 
an  objeft  appears  lefs  than  at  hand.     Delicacy  of  per- 
ception, therefore,  with  refpeft  to  proportion  in  quan- 
tities,  would   be  an  ufelefs  quality  ;  and  it  is  much 
better  ordered,   that  there  fhould  be  fuch  a  latitude 
with  refpe^l  to  agreeable  proportions,  as  to  corref-^ 
pond  to  the   uncertainty  cf  the  eye  with   refpecl  to 
quantity. 

But  all  the  beauties  of  this  fubjeft  are  not  yet  cif, 
played  ;  and  it  is  too  interefting  to  be  paffed  over  ia 
a  curfory  view.  I  proceed  to  obferve,  that  to  niiike 
the  eye  as  delicate  with  refpecV  to  proportion  as  the 
ear  is  with  refpeQ:  to  concord,  would  not  only  be  an 
ufelefs  quality,  but  be  the  fource  of  continual  pain 
and  uneafmefs.  I  need  go  no  farther  for  a  proof 
than  the  very  room  I  occupy  at  prefent  ;  for  every 
^t^  I  take  varies  to  me,  in  appearance,  the  propor- 
tion of  length  to  breadth  :  at  that  rate,  I  fliould  not 
be  happy  but  in  one  precife  fpot,  w^here  the  propor- 
tion appears  agreeable.  Let  me  further  obferve,  that 
it  woukl  be  fmouhir  indeed  to  find,  in  the  nature  of 
man,  any  two  principles  in  perpetual  cppontion  to 
each  other  :  and  yet  this  would  be  the  cafe,  if  pro- 
portion   were  circurp.fcribed   like-   vcncrcrd  ;    for  it 

would 


304  Gardening  and  Archiicclure.       Gi-i.  XXIV^ 

would  exclude  all  but  one  of  thofe  proportions  that 
ytiiity  requires  in  different  buildings,  and  in  different 
parts  of  the  fame  building. 

It  provokes  a  fmile  to  find  writers  acknowledging 
the  necefiity  of  accurate  proportions,  and  yet  difter- 
ing  widely  about  them.  Laying  afide  reafoning 
and  philofophy,  onqfacl  univerfally  allowed  ought 
to  have  undeceived  them,  that  the  feme  propor- 
tions which  arc  agreeable  \\\  a  model,  are  not 
agreeable  in  a  large  building  :  a  room  40  feet  in 
length  and  2,t  in  breadth  and  height,  is  well  propor- 
tioned ;  but  a  room  1 2  feet  wide  and  high  and  24 
long,  approaches  to  a  gallery, 

Perrault,  in  his  c.omparifon  of  the  ancients  and 
moderns,*  i^  the  only  author  who  runs  to  the  oppo- 
fite  extreme  \  maintaining,  that  the  different  propor- 
tions alTigned  to  each  order  of  columns  are  arbitrary, 
and  that  the  beauty  of  thefe  proportions  is  entirely 
the  effect  of  cuftom.  This  betrays  ignorance  of  hu- 
man nature,  which  evidently  delights  in  proportion 
as  well  as  in  regularirv,  order,  and  propriety.  But 
without  any  acquaintance  with  humaii  nature,  a  fingl? 
redecUon  might  have  convinced  him  of  his  error, 
TjKit  if  thefe  proportions  had  not  originally  been 
agreeable,  they  could  not  have  been  eltabliflied  by 
Gudoni. 

To  illuftratc  tjie  prefent  point,  I  Hiall  add  a  fev,- 
CKaraples  of  the  agreeablenefs  of  different;  propor- 
tions. In  a  fumptuous  edifice,  the  capital  rooms 
ought  to  be  large,  far  otherwife  they  will  not  be  pro- 
portioned to  the  fize  of  the  building  :  and  for  the 
fame  reafon,  a  very  large  room  is  improper  in  a  fmalj 
lioufe.  But  in  things  thus  related,  the  mind  requires 
not  a  precife  or  frnglc  proportion,  rejeding  all  others ; 
cm  the  contrary,  many  different  proportions  are  made 

equally 


Ch.XXIV.     Gardening  and  Architeaure.  ^6^, 

equally  welcome.  In  all  buildings  accordingly,  we 
find  rooms  of  different  proportions  equally  agree- 
able, even  where  the  proportion  is  not  influenced  by 
utility.  With  refpecl  to  the' height  of  a  room,  the 
proportion  it  ought  to  bear  to  the  length  and  breadth, 
is  arbitrary  ;  and  it  cannot  be  otheVvvife,  confidering 
the  uncertainty  of  the  eye  as  to  the  height  of  a  rooni^ 
v/hcn  it  exceeds  17  or  18  feet.  In  coknnns,  again, 
even  architecls  mud  confefs,  that  the  proportion  cf 
height  and  thicknefs  varies  betwixt  8  diameters  and 
I  o,  and  that  every  propoi  tion  between  thefe  extremes 
is  agreeable.  But  this  is  not  all.  Ihere  mull  cer* 
tainly  be  a  farther  variation  of  proportion,  depending 
on  the  fize  ef  the  column:  a  row  of  columns  10 
feet  high,  and  a  low  twice  that  height,  require  diifer- 
ent  proportions  :  the  intcrcolumniations  muft  alfo 
differ  according  to  the  height  of  the  row. 

Proportion  of  parts  is  not  only  itfelf  a  beauty,  but 
is  infeparably  connccied  v.'ith  a  beauty  of  the  highefl 
relifh,  that  of  concord  or  harmony  ;  which  vv^ili  be 
plain  from  what  follows.  A  room  of  which  the 
parts  are  all  finely  aujulled  to  each  other,  llrikes  us 
with  the  beauty  of  proportion.  It  flrikes  us  at  the 
fame  time  with  a  pleafure  far  fuperior  :  the  length, 
the  breadth,  the  height,  the  windows,  raife  each  of 
them  feparately  an  emotion  :  thcfe  emotions  are 
fimilar  ;  and  though  faint  when  felt  feparately,  they 
produce  in  conjunclion  the  emotion  of  concord  or 
harmony  ;  which  is  extremely  pleafant.*  Oii  the 
other  hand,  where  the  length  of  a  room  £vr  exceeds 
the  breadth,  the  mind,  comparing  together  parts  fo 
intimately  conne6tcd,  immediately  perceives  a  dif- 
agreement  or  difproportion  which  dlfgufls.  Eut  this 
is  not  all  :  viev.-ing  them  feparately,  dilicrcnt  emo- 
tions are  produced,  that  of  grandeur  from  the  great 

length, 

*  CJjap.  2.  part  4, 


:t 


266  Gardening  and  Archiicdure,     Ch.  XXIV*,, 

length,  and  that  of  meannefs  or  Ilttlenefs  from  the 
fmall  breadth,  which  in  union  are  difagreeable  by 
their  difcordance.  Hence  it  is,  that  a  long  gallery, 
however  convenient  for  exercife,  is  not  an  agreeable 
figure  of  a  room,  we  confider  it,  like  a  ftable,  as 
defUned  for  ufe,  and  expect  not  that  in  any  other 
refpeO:  it  lliould  be  agreeable,* 

Regularity  raid  proportion  are  effential  in  buildings 
deftined  chiefly  or  folely  to  pleafe  the  eye,  becaufe 
they  ptroducejntrinfic  beauty.  But  a  fkilful  artift: 
will  ncit  confine  his  view  to  regularity  and  propor- 
tion :  ^e  will  alfo  fludy  congruity,  which  is  perceiv- 
ed vv^hejn  the  form  and  ornaments  of  a  flrufture  are 
fuited  tb  the  purpofe  for  which  it  is  intended.  .  The 
fenfe  ot  congruity  diftates  the  following  rule,  jThat 
every  building  have  an  expreflion  correfponding  to 
Its  defiiination  :'  a  palace  ought  to  be  fumptuous  and 
grand  i  a  private  dv/eiling,  neat  and  modefl  j  a  play- 
iioufe,  r;ay  and  fplendid  ;  and  a  monument,  gloomy 
jind  mqlancholy.f  A  Heathen  temple  has  a  double 
deflinalion  :  It  is  confidered  chiefly  as  a  houfe  dedi- 
cated to  fome  divinity  ;  and  in  that  refped  it  ought 
to  be  grand,  elevated,  and  magnificent  :  It  is  con- 
fidered alfo  as  a  place  of  worfliip  ;  and  in  that  refped: 
it  ought  to  be  fbmewhat  dark  or  gloomy,  becaufe  dim- 

nefs 


*  A  covered  pafTnge  conneflinpa  winter-garden  with  tliedv;elling-houre, 
would  anfwer  the  purpofe  of  walking  in  bad  weatlier  much  better  than  a 
•gallery.  A  (light  roof  fupported  bv  ilender  pillars,  whether  of  wood  or 
Hone,  would  be  fufiiclent  ;  filling  up  the  fpaces  between  the  pillars  with 
cverorecns,  fo  as  to  give  verdure  and  exclude  \sind, 

+  A  houfe  for  the  poor  ought  to  have  an  appearance  fuited  fo  its 
defiinationj  The  new  hof  ital  in  Paiis  for  foundlinps,  errs  againfl  thi'j 
rule  ;  for  it  has  more  the  r.ir  of  a  palace  than  of  an  hofpital.  Propriety 
and  convenience  oiioht  to  be  fludicd  in  lodging  the  ind'gent  ;  butin  fuch 
houfes  folciKh'tand  magnificence  are  out  of  al!  rule.  For  the  fame  rcafor, 
a  naked  Ilatde  or  picture,  fcarce  decent  anv  where,  is  in  a  church  inioU 
erahlc.  A  furnpiuoiis  c'  aiity-fchool,  befidc  its  iinpropriery,  gives  the 
children  an  utiljappy  tafic  for  high  living. 


tn.  XXIV.     Gardening  and  Architedure*  367 

xiefs  produces  that  tone  of  mind  which  is  fuited  to 
humility  and  devotion.  A  Chriftia-n  church  is  not 
confidered  to  be  a  houre  for  the  Deity,  but  merely  a 
place  of  worfliip  :  it  ought  therefore  to  be  decent  and 
plain,  without  much  ornament  :  a  fituation  ouo-ht 
to  be  chofen  low  and  retired  ;  becaufe  the  congre- 
gation during  worfliip,  ought  to  be  humble  and  dif- 
engaged  from  the  world.  Columns,  befide  their 
chief  fervice  of  being  fupports,  may  contribute  to 
that  peculiar  expreffion  which  the  deftination  of  a 
building  requires :  columns  of  different  proportions, 
ferve  to  exprefs  loftinefs,  lightnefs,  &c.  as  well  as 
ftrength.  Situation  alfo  may  contribute  to  expref- 
fion :  conveniency  regulates  the  fituation  of  a  private 
dwelling-houfe  :  but,  as  I  have  had  occafion  to  ob- 
,.  ferve,*  the  fituation  of  a  palace  ought  to  be  lofty.  1 

'-'    And  this   leads  to  a  queflion,  Whether  the  fitua-*      / 
tion,  where  there  happens  to  be  no  choice,  ought,  i^  y^^/-^ 
any  meafure,  to  regulate  the  form  of  the  edifice  r  / 

The  connection  between  a  large  houfe  and  the  neio-h- 
bouring  fields,  though  not  intimate,  demands  howev- 
er fome  congruity.  It  would,  for  example,  difpleafe 
us  to  find  an  elegant  building  thrown  away  upon  a 
wild  uncultivated  country  :  congruity  requires  a  pol- 
ifhed  field  for  fuch  a  building  5  and  befide  the  pleaf- 
ure  of  congruity,  the  fpeSator  is  fenfible  of  the 
pleafure  of  concordance  from  the  fimilarity  of  the 
emotions  produced  by  the  two  objeds.  The  old 
Gothic  form  of  building  feems  well  fuited  to  the 
rough  uncultivated  regions  where  it  was  invented  : 
the  only  miflake  was,  the  transferring  this  form  to 
the  fine  plains  of  France  and  Italy,  better  fitted  for 
buildings  in  the  Grecian  tafle  ;  but  by  refining  up- 
on the  Gothic  form,  everything  poffible  has'^been 
done  to  reconcile  it  to  its  new  fitiiLiticn.     The  pro- 

fuie 

*  Chap.  10. 


3oS  GArdenhig  and  Archltcclure,     Ch.  XXlV^ 

fufe  variety  of  wild  and  grand  objects  about  Inverary, 
demanded  a  houfe  in  the   Gothic  form  ;  and  every 
one  mud  approve   the  tafte  of  the  proprietor,  in   ad- 
jufting  fo  finely  the  appearance  of  his  houfe  to  that 
<Df  the  country  where  it  is  placed. 
k^A^y^  The  external  flruclure  of  a  great  houfe  leads  natur- 
ally to   its  .internal  flruclure.       A  fpacious  room, 
vhich  is  the  firfl  that  commonly  receives  us,  feems  a 
ad  contrivance  in  feveral  refpefts.     In  the  firft  place, 
when   immediately  from  the   open   air  we  ftep  into 
fuch  a  room,  its  fize  in  appearance  is  diminiilied  by 
contraft  :  it   looks  little   compared   with  that   great 
canopy  the  fky.     In   the  next  place,  when  it  recov- 
ers its  grandeur,  as  it  foon  doth^  it  gives  a  diminutive 
appearance  to  the  reft  of  the  houfe  :  pafling  from  it, 
every  apartment  looks  little.     This    room   therefore 
may  be  aptly  compared  to  the  fv/oln  commencement 
of  an  epic  poem,j 

Bella  per  Emathios  plufquam  civilia  campo?. 

Jn  the  third  place,  by  its  fituation  it  ferves  only  for 
a  w^aiting-room,  and  a  paflage  to  the  principal  apart- 
ments :  inftead  of  being  referved,  as  it  ought  to  be, 
for  entertaining  company  ;  a  great  room,  which  en- 
larges the  mind  and  gives  a  certain  elevation  to 
the  fpirits,  is  deftined  by  nature  for  converfation. 
Rejecting  therefore  this  form,  I  take  a  hint  from  the 
climax  in  writing  for  another  form  that  appears  more 
fuitable  :  a  handfome  portico  proportioned  to  the 
fize  and  failiion  of  the  front,  leads  into  a  waiting- 
room  of  a  larger  fize,  and  that  to  the  great  room  j 
all  by  a  progrefiion  from  fmall  to  great.  If  the  houfe 
be  very  large,  there  may  be  fpace  ft>r  the  following 
fuit  of  rooms :  firft,  a  portico  ;  fecond,  a  paftage  with-^ 
in  the  houfe,  bounded  by  a  double  row  of  columns  con- 

neded 


hi\  yft*^ 


Ch.  XXIV.     Gardenbig  and  Archiie^ure,  369 

nefted  by  arcades  5  third,  an  odagon  room,  or  of 
any  other  figure,  about  the  centre  of  the  building  j, 
and  laflly,  the  great  room. 

A  double  row  of  windows  mud  be  difagreeable  by 
diftributing  the  light  unequally  :  the  fpace  in  partic- 
ulai  between  the  rows  is  always  gloomy.  For 
that  reafon,  a  room  of  greater  height  than  can  be 
conveniently  ferved  by  a  fingle  row,  ought  regularly 
to  be  lighted  from  the  roof.  Artids  have  gener- 
ally an  inchnation  to  form  the  great  room  into  a 
double  cube,  even  v/ith  the  ^  inconvenience  of  a 
double  row  of  windows:  they  are  pleafed  with  the 
regularity,  overlooking  that  it  is  mental  only,  and  not 
vihble  to  the  eye,  which  feldom  can  diilinguifh  be- 
tv^een  the  height  of  24  feet  and  that  of  30.* 

Of  all  the  emotions  that  can  be  raifed  by  archi- 
leclure,  grandeur  is  that  which  has  the  greateft  in-  ■ 
fluence  on  the  mind  ;  and  it  ought  therefore  to  be^ 
the  chief  ftudy  of  the  artift,  to  raife  this  emotion  in 
great  buildings  deftined  to  pleafe  the  eye.  But  as 
grandeur  depends  partly  on  hze,  it  feems  fo  far  un- 
lucky for  architecture,  that  it  is  governed  by  regu- 
larity and  proportion,  which  never  deceive  the  eye 
by  m^aking  objects  appear  larger  than  they  are  in  re- 
ality :  fuch  deception,  as  above  obfcrved,  is  never 
found  but  with  fome  remarkable  difproportion  of 
parts.  But  though  regularity  and  proportion  con- 
tribute nothing  to  grandeur  as  far  as  that  emotion 
depends  on  fize,  they  in  a  diiferent  refpe£t  contribute 
greatly  to  it,  as  has  been  explained  above. f 

Next 

*  One  who  has  not  given  peculiar  attention  will  fcarce  imagine  havr 
imperf(.£t  our  judgment  is  about  diflances,  wiiliont  cxpericr.ce.  Our 
looks  heinCT  oenerally  dirpc^rtl  to  objefts  upon  the  ground  around  us,  we 
jud<;e  tolerablv  of  horizontal  difiances  :  but  feldom  having  occafion  to 
look  upward  in  a  perpendicular  line,  we  (carce  can  furm  any  judgment 
of  dil-iancei  in  that  direftlon. 

+  Cha^.  4. 

Vol.  II,  2i 


37c>  Gardening  and  Architeclure.     Ch.  XXIV. 

^  J     Next  of  ornaments,  which  contribute  to  give  build- 

f^fTlU^i^^^^ings  a  peculiar  expreffion.  It  has  been  doubted 
whether  a  building  can  regularly  admit  any  orna- 
ment but  what  is  ufeful,  or  at  leail  has  that  appear- 
ance. But  confidering  the  different  purpofes  of  arch- 
itecture, a  fine  as  well  as  an  ufeful  art,  there  is  no 
good  reafon  why  ornaments  may  not  be  added  to 
pleafe  the  eye  without  any  relation  to  ufe.  This 
liberty  is  allowed  in  poetry,  painting,  and  gardening, 
and  why  not  in  architedlure  confidered  as  a  fine  art  ? 
A  private  dwelling-houfe,  it  is  true,  and  other  edi- 
fices where  ufe  is  the  chief  aim,  admit  not  regularly 
any  ornament  but  what  has  the  appearance,  at  leaft, 
of  ufe  ;  but  temples,  triumphal  arches,  and  other 
buildings  intended  chiefly  or  folely  for  fliow,  admit 
every  fort  of  ornament. 

A  thing  intended  merely  as  an  ornament  may  be 
of  any  figure  and  of  any  kind  that  fancy  can  fug- 
geft  ;  if  it  pleafe  the  fpe<Stator,  the  artift  gains  his 
end.  Statues,  vafes,  fculpture  upon  flone,  whether 
baffo  or  alto  rehevo,  are  beautiful  ornaments,  reiifli- 
ed  in  all  civilized  countries.  The  placing  fuch  or™ 
naments  fo  as  to  produce  the  befl  effect,  is  the  only 
nicety.  A  flatue  in  perfeftion  is  an  enchanting 
work  ;  and  we  naturally  require  that  it  fhould  be 
feen  in  every  direftion  and  at  different  diftances  ;  for 
which  reafon,  ftatues  employed  as  ornaments  are 
proper  to  adorn  the  great  flair-cafe  that  leads  to  the 
principal  door  of  a  palace,  or  to  occupy  the  void  be- 
tween pillars.  But  a  niche  in  the  external  front  is 
not  a  proper  place  for  a  flatue  ;  and  flatues  upon  the 
roof,  or  upon  the  top  of  a  wall,  would  give  pain  by 
feeming  to  be  in  danger  of  tumbling.  To  adorn  the 
top  of  a  wall  with  a  rov/  of  vafes  is  an  unhappy  con- 
ceit, by  placing  things  apparently  of  ufe  where  they 
cannot  be  of  any  ufe.     As  to  baifo  and  alto  reiievo, 

I  obferve. 


Ch.  XXIV.     Gardenmg  and  Architedufs.  371 

I  obferve,  that  in  archltefture  as  well  as  In  garden* 
ing,  contradictory  expreflions  ought  to  be  avoided  : 
for  which  reafon,  the  Hghtnefs  and  delicacy  of  carv- 
ed work  fuits  ill  with  the  firmnefs  and  folidity  of  a 
pedeftal  :  upon  the  pedeftal,  whether  of  a  ftatue  or  a 
column,  the  ancients  never  ventured  any  bolder  or- 
nament than  the  baflb  relievo.  . 
y  One  at  firft  view  will  naturally  take  it  for  granted,  m^^^f^"^ 
that  in  the  ornaments  under  confideration,  beauty  is  ^u;^^^*^^^*^ 
indifpenfable.  It  goes  a  great  way  undoubtedly  ;  but,  ^^  / 
upon  trial,  we  find  many  things  efteemed  as  highly 
ornamental  that  have  little  or  no  beauty.  There  are 
various  circumflances,beride  beauty,  that  tend  to  make 
an  agreeable  impreffion.  For  inftance,  the  reverence 
we  have  for  the  ancients  is  a  fruitful  fource  of  orna- 
ments. Amalthea's  horn  has  always  been  a  favour- 
ite ornament,  becaufe  of  its  connection  with  a  lady 
who  was  honoured  with  the  care  of  Jupiter  in  his  in- 
fancy. A  fat  old  fellow  and  a  goat  are  furely  not 
graceful  forms ;  and  yet  Selinus  and  his  companions 
are  every  where  fafliionable  ornaments.  What  elfe 
but  our  fondnefs  for  antiquity  can  make  the  horrid 
form  of  a  Sphinx  fo  much  as  endurable  ?  "(Original 
deflination  is  another  circumftance  that  has  Influence 
to  add  dignity  to  things  in  themfelves  abundantly 
trivial.  In  the  fcblpture  of  a  marble  chimney-piece, 
inftruments  of  a  Grecian  or  Roman  facrifice  are  be- 
held with  pleafure ;  original  deftinatlon  renderina- 
them  venerable  as  well  as  their  antiquity.  Let  fome 
modern  cutlery  ware  be  fubftituted,  though  not  lefs 
beautiful  ;  the  arrift  will  be  thought  whimfical,  if  not 
abfurd.  Triumphal  arches,  pyramids,  obeliiks,  are 
beautiful  forms  ;  but  the  nohlenefs  of  their  original 
deilination  has  greatly  enhanced  the  pleafure  we  take 
in  them.     A  ilatuc,  fuppofed  to  be  ^n   Apollo,  will 

with 
Z2 


•^fl  Gardening  and  Archltecliire,     Ch.  XXIV* 

with  an  antiquary  lofe  miich  of  its  grace  when  dif- 
covered  to  have  been  done  for  a  barber's  apprentice. 
Long  robes  appear  noble,  not  fmgly  for  their  flowing 
lines,  but  for  their  being  the  habit  of  magiftrates  5 
and  a  fcatf  acquires  an  air  of  dignity  by  being  the 
badge  of  a  fuperior  order  of  churchmen.  Thefe  ex- 
amples may  be  thought  fufficient  for  a  fpecimenj ; 
a  diligent  inquiry  into  human  nature  will  difcover 
other  influencing  principles  ;  and  hence  it  is,  that  of 
all  fubjedls,  ornaments  admit  the  greatell:  variety  iri 
point  of  taile. 

Things  merely  ornamental  appear  more  gay  and 
fliowy  than  things  that  take  on  the  appearance  of  ufe, 
A  knot  of  diamonds'  in  the  hair  is  fplendid  ;  bu(^ 
diamonds  have  a  more  modell:  appearance  when  ufed 
as  clafps  or  buttons.  The  former  ate  more  proper 
for  a  young  beauty,  the  latter  after  marriage. 

And  this  leads  to  ornaments  having  relation  to 
ufe.  Ornaments  of  that  kind  are  governed  by  a 
different  principle,  which  is,  (That  they  ought  to  be 
of  a  form  fuited  to  their  real  or  apparent  deftination.3 
This  rule  is  applicable  as  well  to  ornaments  that 
make  a^omponent  part  of  the  fubicft,  as  to  orna- 
ments that  are  only  acceffory.  "vVIth  relation  to  the 
former,  it  never  can  proceed  from  a  good  tafle  to 
make  a  tea-fpoon  refemble  the  leaf  of  a  tree  ;  for 
fuch  a  form  is  inconnrtent  with  the  deftination  of  a 
tea-fpoon.  An  eagle's  claw  is  an  ornament  no  lefs 
Improper  for  the  foot  of  a  chair  or  table  :  becaufe  it 
gives  it  the  appearance  of  weaknefs,  inconfiflient  with 
its  deftination  of  bearing  weight.  Blind  windows 
are  foinetimes  introduced  to  preferve  the  appearance 
of  regularity  :  in  winch  cafe  the  deceit  ought  care- 
fully to  be  concealed  :  if  vifible,  it  marks  the  irreg- 
ularity in  the  cleareft  manner,  fignifying,  that  real 
windows  aught  to  have  been  there,  could  they  have 

been 


Cn.  XXIV.     Gardening  and  Archiie^ure,  373 

been  made  confiftent  with  the  internal  ftruQiure.  A 
pilafter  is  another  example  of  the  fame  fort  of  orna- 
ment ;  and  the  greateft  error  againd  its  feeming  def- 
tination  of  a  fupport,  is  to  fink  it  fo  far  into  the  wall 
as  to  make  it  lofe  that' feeming.  A  compofition  rep- 
refenting  leaves  and  branches,  with  birds  perching 
upon  them,  has  been  long  in  fafhion  for  a  candle- 
flick  ;  but  none  of  thefe  particulars  is  in  any  degree 
fuited  to  that  dellination. 

A  large  marble  bafon  fupported  by  fiflies,  is  a  con- 
ceit much  relifhed  in  fountains.  This  is  an  example 
of  accelTory  ornaments  in  a  bad  tafle.;  for  fillies 
here  are  unfuitable  to  their  apparent  deftination.  No 
lefs  fo  are  the  fupports  of  a  coach,  carved  in  the  fig- 
ure of  Dolphins  or  Tritons  :  for  what  have  thefe 
marine  beings  to  do  on  dry  land  ?  and  what  fapport 
can  they  be  to  a  coach  ? 

In  a  column  we  have  an  example  of  both  kinds  of 
ornament.  Where  columns  are  employed  in  the 
front  of  a  building  to  fupport  an  entablature,  they 
belong  to  the  firll  kind  :  where  employed  to  con- 
necc  with  detached  ofHces,  they  are  rather  of  the  other 
kind.  As  a  column  is  a  capital  ornament  in  Grecian 
architecture,  it  well  deferves  to  be  handled  at  large. 

With  refped;  to  the  form  of  this  ornament,  I  ob^ 
ferve,  that  a  circle  is  a  more  agreeable  figure  than  a 
Iquare,  a  globe  than  a  cube,  and  a  cylinder  than  a 
parailelopipcdon.  This  laft,  in  the  language  of  arch- 
itefture,  is  faying  that  a  column  is  a  more  agreea- 
ble figure  than  a  pilafter  ;  and  for  that  reafon  it 
ought  to  be  preferred,  all  other  circumftances  being 
equal.  Another  reafon  concurs,  that  a  column  con- 
nected with  a  wall,  which  is  a  plain  furface,  makes 
a  greater  variety  than  a  pilafter.  There  is  an  addi- 
tional reaion  for  rejeding  pilafters  in  the  external 
iVont  of  a  building,  arifmg  from  a  principle  unfoM- 
Z3  ed 


374  Gardening  and  ArchiteBure,     Ch.  XXIV. 

ed  above,*  namely,  a  tendency  in  man,  to  advance 
every  thing  to  its  perfeftion,  and  to  its  conclufion. 
If,   for    example,   I  fee  a  thing   obfcurely  in  a  dim 
light  and  by  disjointed  parts,  that  tendency  prompts 
me  to  conned  the  disjointed  parts  into  a  whole  :  I  fup- 
pofed  it  to  be,  for  example,  a  horfe  ;  and  my  eye-fight 
being  obedient  to  the  conjeclm-e,  I  immediately  per- 
ceive a  horfe,  almoft  as    diftindtly   as  in   day-light. 
This    principle  is   applicable   to   the  cafe  in  hand. 
The  mod  fuperb  front,  at  a  great  diftance,  appears  a 
plain  furface  :  approaching  gradually,  we  begin  firft 
to  perceive  inequalities,  and  then  pillars  ;  but  whether 
round  or  fquare,  we  are  uncertain  :  our  curiofity  an- 
ticipating  our  progrefs,  cannot  reft  in  fufpenfe  :  be- 
ing prompted  by  the  tendency   mentioned,   to  fup- 
pofe  the  moft  complete  pillar,  or  that  which  is   the 
jnoft  agreeable  to  the  eye,  we  immediately   perceive, 
or  feem  to  perceive,  a  number  of  columns  :  if  upon 
a  near  approach  we  find  pilafters    only,  the    difap- 
pointment  makes  thefe  pilafters  appear  difagreeable  ; 
when  abftra£ted  from  that  circumftance,  they  would! 
only  have  appeared  fomewhat  iefs  agreeable.     But  as 
this  deception  cannot  happen  in  the  inner  front    in- 
clofing  a  court,    I    fee  no    reafon  for   excluding   pi- 
lafters from  fuch   a   front,    when  there  is  any  caufe 
for  preferring  them  before  columns. 

With  refpecl  now  to  the  parts  of  a  column,  a  bare 
\miform  cylinder  without  a  capital,  appears  naked  ; 
and  without  a  bafe,  appears  too  tickiiflily  placed  to 
iland  firm  if  it  ought  therefore  to  have  fome  finifh- 
ing  at  the  top  and  at  the  bottom.  Hence  the  three 
chief  parts  of  a  column,  the  fhaft,  the  bafe  and  the 
capital.      Nature    undoubtedly  requires  proportion 

among 

*  Chap.  4. 

+  A  column  without  a  bafe  is  difagreeable,  bccaufe  it  Teems  in  a  tot- 
tering condiiion  ;  yet  a  tree  without  a  l)nfe  is  agreeable  ;  and  the  reafon 
is,  that  wc  know  it  to  be  firmlv  rooted.  Th»s  obfeivation  fliows  hov.» 
much  talk  is  influenced  by  rcflcflioii. 


Ch.  XXIV.    Gardening  and  ArchiteBure*  375 

among  thefe  parts,  but  It  admits  variety  of  propor- 
tion. I  fufpecl  that  the  proportions  in  ufe  have  been 
influenced  in  fome  degree  by  the  human  figure  ;  the 
capital  being  conceived  as  the  head,  the  bafe  as  the 
feet.  With  refpe6l  to  the  bafe,  indeed,  the  principle 
of  utility  interpofes  to  vary  it  from  the  human  figure  : 
the  bafe  mull  be  fo  proportioned  to  the  whole,  as  to 
give  the  column  the  appearance, of  ftabihty. 

We  find  three  orders  of  columns  among  the 
Greeks,  the  Doric,  the  Ionic,  and  the  Corinthian, 
diftinguifhed  from  each  other  by  their  deftination  as 
"Vvell  as  by  their  ornaments.  It  has  been  warmly  dif- 
puted,  whether  any  new  order  can  be  added  to  thefe  : 
fome  hold  the  affirmative,  and  give  for  inflances-  the 
Tufcan  and  Compofite  :  others  deny,  and  maintain 
that  thefe  properly  are  not  diftin6l  orders,  but  only 
the  original  orders  with  fome  flight  variations. 
Among  writers  who  do  not  agree  upon  any  ftandard 
for  difliinguifhlng  the  different  orders  from  each  other, 
the  difpute  can  never  have  an  end.  What  occurs  to 
me  on  this  fubjeft  is  what  follows. 

The  only  circumfl;ances  that  can  ferve  to 
gulfli  one  order  from  another,  are  the  form 
column,  and  its  defl:Ination.  To  make  the 
difliingulfliing  mark,  without  regard  to  the  other, 
would  multiply  thefe  orders  without  end  :  for  a  col- 
our is  not  more  fufceptible  of  {iiflerent  fiiades,  than  a 
column  is  of  different  forms.  Defl:ination  is  more 
limited,  as  it  leads  to  difl;ingulfli  columns  into  three 
kinds  or  orders  ;  one  plain  and  ftrong,  for  the  pur- 
pofe  of  fupporting  plain  and  mafly  buildings  ;  one 
delicate  and  graceful,  for  fupporting  buildings  of 
that  character  5  and  between  thefe,  one  for  fupporting 
buildings  of  a  middle  charader.  This  diftinclion, 
which  regards  the  different  purpofes  of  a  column,  is 
not  naturally  liable  to  any  objection,  confidering  that 
Z  4  it 


2y6  Gardening  and  Architecture.     Ch.  XXIV. 

It  tends  alio  to  regulate  the  form,  and  in  fome  meaf- 
iirc  the  ornaments  of  a  cohimn.  To  enlarge  the  di- 
vifion  by  taking  in  a  greater  variety  of  purpofes, 
would  be  of  little  ufe,  and,  if  admitted,  would  have 
no  end  ;  for  from  the  very  nature  of  the  foregoing 
divifion,  there  can  be  r>o  good  reafon  for  adding,  a 
fourth  order,  more  than  a  fifth,  a  fixth,  l^c.  without 
any  pollible  circumfcription. 

To  iiluftrate  this  dodrine,   I  make   the  following 

,  obfervation.       If  M^e  regard    dellination    only,    the 

/    Tufcan  is  of  the  fame  order  with. the  Doric,  and  the 

\    XZ!ompofite  with  the   Corinthian  ;  but  if  we  regard 

\  form  merely,  they  are  of  different  orders. 

The  ornaments  of  thefe  three  orders  ought  to  be 
fo  contrived  as  to  make  them  look  like  what  they  are 
intended  for.  Plain  and  ruftic  ornaments  would  be 
not  a  httle  difcordant  with  the  elegance  of  the  Co- 
rinthian order  ;  and  ornaments  fweet  and  delicate  no 
iefs  fo,  with  the  ftrength  of  the  Doric.  For  that  rea- 
fon, I  am  not  altogether  fatisfied  with  the  ornaments 
of  the  laft  mentioned  order  :  if  they  be  not  too  deli- 
cate, they  are  at  leall  too  numerous  for  a  pillar  in 
which  the  character  of  utility  prevails  over  that  of 
beauty.  The  crowding  of  ornaments  would  be  more 
fufferable  in  a  columh  of  an  oppofite  character.  But 
this  is  a  flight  obiecllon,  and  I  wiili  I  could  think  the 
fame  of  what  foUov/s.  The  Corinthian  order  has 
been  the  favourite  of  two  thoufand  years,  and  yet  I 
cannot  force  myfelf  to  reiifli  its  capital.  The  inven- 
tion of  this  florid  capital  is  afcribed  to  the  fculptor 
Caliimachus,  who  took  a  hint  from  the  plant  Acan- 
ihus^  growing  round  a  bafket  placed  accidentally  upon 
it  ;  and  in  faft  the  capital  under  confideration  reprc- 
fents  pretty  accurately  a  bafket  fo  ornamented.  This 
objecl:,  or  its  imitation  in  flone,  placed  upon  a  pillar, 
may  look  well  j  but  to  make  it  the  capital  of  a  pillay 

intended 


Ch.  XX'IV.     Gardening  and  ArchiteBure.  377 

intended  to  fupport  a  building,  mult  give  the  pillar 
an  appearance  inconfiflent  with  its  dellination  :  an 
Acanthus,  or  any  tender  plant,  may  require  iupport, 
but  is  altogether  infufiicient  to  iupport  any  thing 
heavier  than  a  bee  or  a  butterfly.  This  capital  mu(t 
alfo  bear  the  weiprht  of  another  objeftion  :  to  repre* 
fent  a  vine  wreathing  round  a  column  with  its  root 
feemingly  in  the  ground,  is  natural  ;  but  to  reprefent 
an  Acanthus,  or  any  plant,  as  growing  on  the  top  of 
a  column,  is  unnatural.  The  elegance  of  this  capital 
did  probably  at  hrfl  draw  a  vail  over  its  impropriety  ; 
and  now  by  long  ufe  it  has  gained  an  eftablilhment, 
rel|>e6ted  by  every  artift.  Such  is  the  force  of  cuf- 
tom,  even  in  contradiction  to  nature  ! 
^  It  will  not  be  gaining  much  ground  to  urge,  that 
the  bafl-iet,  or  vafe,  is  underftood  to  be  the  capital,  and 
that  the  ftems  and  leaves  of  the  plant  are  to  be  con- 
fidered  as  ornaments  merely  ;  for,  excepting  a  plant, 
nothing  can  be  a  more  improper  fupport  for  a  great 
building  than  a  bailsLetorvale  even  of  the  firme/i:  texture. 
Yv-^ith  refped:  to  buildings  of  every  fort,  one  rule,  dic- 
tated by  utility,  is,  that  they  be  firm  and  ftable.  An- 
other rule,  dictated  by  beauty,  is,  that  they  alfo  appear 
fo  :  for  what  appears  tottering  and  in  hazard  of  tumb- 
ling, produceth  in  the  i|3e6tator  the  painful  eniotion  of 
fear,  inftead  of  the  pleafant  emotion  of  beauty  ;  and, 
accordingly,  it  is  the  great  care  of  the  artiit,  that  eve- 
ry part  of  his  edifice  appear  to  be  well  iiipported. 
Procopius,  defciibing  the  church  of  St.  Sopliia  in 
Conllantinople,  one  of  the  wonders  of  the'world, 
ntentions  with  applaufe  a  part  of  the  fabric  placed 
above  the  eait  front  in  form  of  a  half-moon,  fo  con- 
trived as  to  infpirc  both  fear  and  admiration:  for 
though,  fays  he,  it  is  perfectly  well  fupported,  yet  it 
is  fufpended  in  fuch  a  manner  as  if  it  were  to  tumble 
4owu  the  ne;it  moment.     This   conceit  is   a  foit  of 

fuife 


37 3  Gardening  and  Architedure.     Ch.  XXIV, 

falfe  Vv'it  in  archlteclure,  which  men  were  fond  of 
in  the  infancy  of  the  fine  arts.     A  turret  jutting  out 
from   an  angle   in  the  uppermoft  flory  of  a  Gothic 
tower,  is  a  witticifm  of  the  fame  kind. 

To  fucceed  in  allegorical  or  emblematic  orna- 
jnents,  is  no  flight  effort  of  genius ;  for  it  is  extreme- 
ly difficult  to  difpofe  them  fo  in  a  building  as  to  pro- 
duce any  good  effeft.  The  mixing  them  with  reali- 
ties, makes  a  miferable  jumble  of  truth  and  fidion.* 
In  a  balTo  relievo  on  Antonine's  pillar,  rain  obtained 
by  the  prayers  of  a  Chriftian  legion,  is  expreffed  by 
joining  to  the  group  of  foldiers  a  rainy  Jupiter,  with 
water  in  abundance  falling  from  his  head  and  beard. 
De  Piles,  fond  of  the  conceit,  carefully  informs  his 
reader,  that  he  muft  not  take  this  for  a  real  Jupiter, 
but  for  a  fymbol  which  among  the  Pagans  fignified 
rain  :  he  never  once  confiders,  that  a  fymbol  or  em- 
blem ought  not  to  make  part  of  a  group  reprefenting 
real  objects  or  real  events  ;  but  be  fo  detached,  as 
even  at  firil  view  to  appear  an  emblem.  But  this  is 
not  all,  nor  the  chieJP  point  :  every  emblem  ought 
to  be  rejected  that  is  not  clearly  expreffive  of  its 
meaning  ;  for  if  it  be  in  any  degree  obfcure,  it  puz- 
zles, and  doth  not  pleafe.  The  temples  of  Ancient 
and  Modern  Virtue  in  the  gardens  of  Stow,  appear 
not  at  firft  view  emblematical  ;  and  when  we  are  in- 
formed that  they  are  fo,  it  is  not  eafy  to  gather  their 
meaning  :  the  fpeclator  fees  one  temple  entire, 
another  in  ruins  ;  but  without  an  explanatory  in- 
fcription,  he  may  guefs,  but  cannot  be  certain,  that 
the  former  being  dedicated  to  Ancient  Virtue,  the, 
latter  to  Modern  Virtue,  are  intended  a  fatire  upon 
the  prefent  times.  On  the  other  hand,  a  t?ite  em- 
blem, like 'a  trite  fimile,  is  difguftful.t  Nor  ought 
an  emblem  more  than  a  fmiile  to  be  founded  on  low 

or 

*  See  chap.  20.  feft.  5.  f  See  chap.  8. 


Ch.  XXIV.    Gardenhig  and  Archtte&ure.  379 

or  familiar  objects ;  for  if  thefe  be  not  agreeable  as 
well  as  their  meaning,  the  emblem  upon  the  whole 
will  not  be  reliflied.  A  room  in  a  dwelling-houfe 
containing  a  monument  to  a  deceafed  friend,  is  ded- 
icated to  Melancholy  :  it  has  a  clock  that  ftrikes  ev- 
ery minute,  to  fignify  how  fwiftly  time  paifes — upon, 
the  monument,  weeping  figures  and  other  hackney'd. 
ornaments  commonly  found  upon  tomb-flones,  with 
a  (luffed  raven  in  a  corner— -verfes  on  death,  and 
other  ferious  fubjeds,  infcribed  all  around.  The 
objeds  are  too  familiar,  and  the  artifice  too  apparent, 
to  produce  the  intended  effe6l.* 

The  flatue  of  Moles  ftriking  a  rock  from  which 
water  actually  ilfues,  is  alfo  in  a  falfe  tafte  ;  for  it  is 
mixing  reality  with  reprefentation.  Mofes  himfelf 
may  bring  water  out  of  the  rock,  but  this  miiacle  is 
too  much  for  his  flatue.  The  fame  objection  lies 
againft  a  cafcade  where  the  flatue  of  a  w^ater-god 
pours  out  of  his  urn  real  water. 

I  am  more  doubtful  whether  the  fame  objection 
lies  againll  the  employing  ftatues  of  animals  as  fup-  -^ 
ports,  that  of  a  negro,  for  example,  fupporting  a  dial, 
ftatues  of  fiih,  fupporting  a  bafon  of  water,  Tejines 
fupporting  a  chimney-piece  ;  for  when  a  ftone  is 
ufed  as  a  fupport,  where  is  the  incongruity,  it  will  be 
faid,  to  cut  it  into  the  form  of  an  animal  ?  But  leav- 
ing this  doubtful,  another  objection  occurs.  That  fuch 
defigns  mufl  in  fome  meafure  be  difagreeable,  by  the 
appearance  of  giving  pain  to  a  feniitive  being.  ' 

It  is  obferved  above  of  gardening,  that  it  contrib-  n'^'*'*^ 
utes  to  re(5titude  of  manners,  by  inlpiring  gaiety  and^<^^^ 
benevolence.     1  add  another  obfervation.  That  both  0''* i 

gardening       J" 

■•'■  lii  the  citv  of  Mexico,  ilicrc  vas  a  palace  termed  the  hciifc  of  of. 
Jliciiiu,  where  Montezuma  retiied  iij)oii  lofipo  any  of  liis  'fncnds,  or  up. 
on  ;inv  public  c.ilamitv.  This  lioufe  was  better  adjuiied  to  its  dcfliiia- 
tion  :  it  inlpircd  a  fott  of  liorror  :  all  was  black  and  dilmal  :  fmnlj 
windows  (hut  up  with  giatcs,  i'carce  allowing  pelFage  to  ilu-  li.alit, 


5S0  Gardening  and  Anhiie&ure,     Ch.  XXIV^. 

gardening  and  archlte^ure  contribute  to  the  fame 
end,  by  infpiring  a  tafte  for  neatnefs  and  elegance. 
In  Scotland,  the  regularity  and  polilh  even  of  a  turn- 
pike-road has  fome  influence  of  this  kind  upon  the 
low  people  in  the  neighbourhood.  They  become 
fond  of  regularity  and  neatnefs  ;  which  is  difplayed, 
firft  upon  their  yards  and  little  inclofures,  and  next 
within  doors.  A  tafte  for  regularity  and  neatnefs 
thus  acquired,  is  extended  by  degrees  to  drefs,  and. 
even  to  behaviour  and  manners.  The  author  of  a 
hiftory  of  Switzerland,  defcribing  the  fierce  manners 
of  the  Plebeians  of  Bern  three  or  four  centuries  ago, 
continually  inured  to  fuccefs  in  war,  which  made  them. 
infoientiy  aim  at  a  change  of  government  in  order  to 
cftabiiib:  a  pure  democracy,  obferves,  that  no  circum- 
ftance  tended  more  to  fweeten  their  manners,  and  to 
inake  them  fond  of  peace,  than  the  public  buildings 
carried  on  by  the  fenate  for  ornamenting  their  capital ; 
particularly  a  fme  town-houfe,  and  a  magnificent 
church,  which  to  this  day,  fays  our  author,  (lands  iti 
giound  as  one  of  the  finefl  in  Europe. 


C  H  A  P» 


CHAP.       XXV, 

Standard  of  Tajle. 


HAT  there  is  no  difputing  about, taile,'* 
jtiieaning  tafle  in  its  figurative  as  well  as  proper  fenfe^ 
is  a  faying  fo  generally  received  as  to  have  become  a 
proverb.  One  thing  even  at  firfl  view  is  evident,  that ' 
if  the  proverb  hold  true  with  refpeO:  to  tafte  in  its 
proper  meaning,  it  mull  hold  equally  true  with  refpe^t 
to  our  other  external  fenfes  :  if  the  plcafures  of  the  • 
palate  dildain  a  comparative  trial,  and  reject  all  criti* 
cifm,  the  pleafures  of  touch,  of  ihicll,  of  found,  and 
even  of  fight,  muil  be  equally  privileged.  At  that 
rate,  a  man  is  not  within  the  reach  of  cenfure,  even 
v/here  he  prefers  the  Saracen's  head  upon  a  fign-polt 
before  the  beft  tablature  of  Raphael,  or  a  rude  Gothic 
tovv^er  before  the  fineft  Grecian  building  ;  or  where 
he  prefers  the  fmell  of  a  rotten  carcafs  before  that  of 
the  moft  odoriferous  flower,  or  difcords  before  the 
moft  exquifite  harmony. 

But  v/e  cannot  ftop  here.  If  the  pleafures  of  ex- 
ternal fenfe  be  exempted  from  criticifm,  why  not 
every  one  of  our  pleafures,  from  whatever  fource  deriv- 
ed ?  if  tafte  in  its  proper  fenfe  cannot  be  difputed,  there 
is  little  room  for  difputing  it  in  its  figurative  fenfe. 
The  proverb  accordingly  comprehends  both  ;  and  in 
that  large  fenfe  may  be  refolved  into  the  following' 
general  propofition.  That  with  refpect  to  the  percep- 
tions of  fenfe,  by  which  fonie  objefts  appear  agreea- 
ble, fome  difagreeable,  there  is  not  fuch  a  thing  as  a 
good  or  a  had^  a  right  or  a  ivrong  ;  that  every  maji's 
tafte  is  to  himfelf  an  ultimate  ftandard  without  ap- 
peal j 


3 §2  Standard  of  Tajle.  Ch.  XXV, 

peal  ;  and  confequently  that  there  Is  no  ground  of 
cenfure  againft  any  one,  if  fuch  a  one  there  be,  who 
prefers  Blackmore  before  Homer,  feJiiflmefs  before 
benevolence,  or  cowardice  before  magnanimity. 

The  proverb  In  the  foregoing  examples  is  indeed 
carried  very  far  :  it  feems  difficult,  however,  to  fap 
its  foundation,  or  with  fuccefs  to  attack  it  from  any 
quarter  :  for  is  not  every  man  equally  a  judge  of 
what  ought  to  be  agreeable  or  difagreeable  to  him- 
felf  ?  doth  it  not  feem  whimfical,  and  perhaps  abfurd, 
to  aflert,  that  a  man  ought  not  to  be  pleafed  when  he 
is,  or  that  he  ought  to  be  pleafed  when  he  is  not  ? 

This  teafoning  may  perplex,  but  will  never  afford 
convidion  :  every  one  of  tafte  will  reje6l  it  as  falfe, 
however  unqualified  to  detect  the  fallacy.  At  the 
fame  time,  though  no  man  of  tafle  will  afient  to  the 
proverb  as  holding  true  in  every  cafe,  no  man  will 
affirm  that  It  holds  true  in  no  cafe  :  objeds  there  are, 
■  undoubtedly,  that  we  may  like  or  diflike  indifferently, 
ifvlthout  any  imputation  upon  our  tafte.  Were  a 
philofoper  to  make  a  fcale  for  human  pleafures,  he 
would  not  think  of  making  divifions  without  end  ; 
but  would  rank  together  many  pleafures  ariiing  per- 
haps from  different  objeds,  either  as  equally  conduc- 
ing to  happlnefs,  or  differing  fo  imperceptibly  as  to 
make  afeparation  unneceffary.  Nature  hath  taken  this 
courfe,  at  lead  it  appears  fo  to  the  generality  of  man- 
kind. There  may  be  fubdivifions  without  end  ;  but 
we  are  only  fenfible  of  the  groffer  divifions,  compre- 
hending each  of  them  various  pleafures  equally  af- 
feftlng  ;  to  thefe  the  proverb  Is  applicable  in  the 
ftrlclefl  fenfe  ;  for  with  refpecl  to  pleafures  of  the 
fame  rank,  what  ground  can  there  be  for  preferring 
one  before  another  ?  if  a  preference  In  fact  be  given 
by  any  individual,  it  cannot  proceed  from  tafte,  but 
from  cuftom,  Imitation,  or  fome  peculiarity  of  mind. 

Nature, 


Ch.  XXV.  Standard  of  Tap.  383 

Nature,  in  her  fcale  of  pleafures,  has  been  fparing 
of  divifions  :  Ihe  hath  wifely  and  benevolently  filled 
every  divifion  with  many  pleafures  ;  in  order  that 
individuals  may  be  contented  with  their  own  lot, 
without  envying  that  of  others.  Many  hands  mufh 
be  employed  to  procure  us  the  conveniences  of  Ufe  5 
and  it  is  neceffary  that  the  different  branches  of 
bufinefs,  whether  more  or  lefs  agreeable,  be  filled 
with  hands  :  a  taile  too  refined  would  obllrucl  that 
plan  ;  -for  it  would  crowd  fome  employments,  leaving 
others,  no  lefs  ufeful,  totally  neglected.  In  our  pref-^ 
ent  condition,  lucky  it  is  that  the  plurality  are  not 
delicate  in  their  choice,  but  fall  in  readily  with  the 
occupations,  pleafures,  food  and  company,  that  for^ 
tune  throv.'s  in  their  way  ;  and  if  at  firft  there  be 
any  difpleahng  circumftance,  cuftom  foon  makes  it 
eafy. 

The  proverb  will  hold  true  as  to  the  particular,^ 
now  explained  ;  but  when  applied  in  general  to  everv 
fubjecl  of  tafte,  the  difficukies  to  be  encountered  are 
infuperable.  We  need  only  to  mention  the  difficulty 
that  arifes  from  human  nature  itfelf  ;  do  we  not  talk 
of  a  good  and  a  bad  tafte  ?  of  a  right  and  a  wrong 
taffe  ?  and  upon  that  fuppofition,  do  we  not,  with 
great  confidence,  cenfure  writers,  painters,  architedls, 
and  every  one  who  deals  in  the  fine  arts  ?  Are  fuch 
criticifms  abfurd,  and  void  of  common  fenfe  ?  have 
the  foregoing  expreffions,  familiar  in  all  languages 
and  among  all  people,  no  fort  of  meaning  ?  This  can 
hardly  be  ;  for  what  is  univerfal,  mull  have  a  foun- 
dation in  nature.  If  we  can  reach  that  foundation, 
the  flandard  of  tade  will  uo  longer  be  a  fecret. 

We  have  a  fenfe  or  conviction  of  a  common  \v,\- 
ture,  not  only  in  our  ov/n  fpecies,  but  in  every  fpe- 
cies  of  animals  :  and  our  ■  conviclion  is  verified  bv 
experience  ;  for  there  appears  a  reaiarkable  uniform-  ■ 

\\\ 


384  Standard  of  Taje.  Ch.  XXV. 

ity  among  creatures  of  the  fame  kind,  and  a  deform- 
ity no  lefs  remarkable  among  creatures  of  different 
kinds.  This  comtnon  nature  is  conceived  to  be  a 
model  or  ftandard  for  each  individual  thatbelonp-s  to 

,  o 

the  kind.  Hence  it  is  a  wonder  to  iind  an  individual 
deviating  from  the  common  nature  of  the  fpecies, 
whetht-r  in  its  internal  or  external  conftrudion  :  a 
child  born  with  averfion  to  its  mother's  milk,  is  a 
wonder,  no  lefs  than  if  born  without  a  mouth,  or 
v/ith  more  than  one.*  This  conviSlion  of  a  cemmon 
nature  in  every  fpecies,  paves  the  way  finely  for  dif- 
tributing  things  mto  genera  ^md.  fpecies  y  to  which  we 
arc  extremel}^  prone,  not  only  with  regard  to  animals 
and  vegetables,  where  nature  has  led  the  way  ;  but 
alfo  with  regard  to  many  other  things,  where  there  is 
no  ground  for  fuch  diftribution,  but  fancy  merely. 

With  refpeft  to  the  common  nature  of  man  in 
particular,  we  have  a  conviction  that  it  is  invariable 
not  lefs  than  univerfal  ;  that  it  will  be  the  fame  here- 
after as  at  prefent,  and  as  it  was  in  time  pad  ;  the 
fame  among  all  nations  and  in  all  corners  of  the  earth. 
Nor  are  we  "deceived  ;  becaufe,  giving  allowance  for 
the  difference  of  culture  and  gradual  refinem.ent  of 
manners,  the  fadt  correfponds  to  our  conviction. 

We  are  fo  conftituted,  as  to  conceive  tliis  common 
nature,  to  be  not  only  invariable,  but  alfo  ^pcrfeft  or 
right ;  and  confequently  that  individuals  ought  to  be 
made  conformable  to  it.  Every  remarkable  deviation 
from  the  ftandard,  makes  accordingly  an  impreffion 
upon  us  of  imperfeftion,  irregularity,  or  diforder  : 
it  is  difagreeable,  and  raifes  in  us  a  pahiful  emotion  : 
monflrous  births,  exciting  the  curiofity  of  a  philofo- 
pher,  fciil  not  at  the  fame  time  to  excite  a  fort  of 
horror. 

This 

*  See  Effdys  on  Morality  and  Natural  Religion,  part  j,  cffay  a.ch.  x^ 


Ch.  XXV.  Standard  of  ToftC*  385 

This  convidion  of  a  common  nature  or  flandard 
and  of  its  perfcdtion,  accounts  clearly  for  that  re-  , 
markable  conception  we  have,  of  a  right  and  a  wrong 
fenfe  or  tafte  in  morals.  It  accounts  not  lefs  clearly  , 
for  the  conception  we  have  of  a  right  and  a  wrong  * 
fenfe  or  tafte  in  the  fine  arts.  A  man  v/ho,  avoiding 
objeds  generally  agreeable,  delights  in  objects  gener- 
ally difagreeable,  is  condemned  as  a  monller  :  we 
difapprove  his  tafte, as  bad  or  wrong,  becaufe  v/e  have 
a  clear  conception  that  he  deviates  from  the  common 
flandard.  If  man  were  fo  framed  as  not  to  have  any 
notion  of  a  common  ilandardjthe  proverb  mentioned 
in  the  beginning  v.'ould  hold  univerfally,  not  only  in 
the  fine  arts,  but  in  morals :  upon  that  fuppofition, 
the  tafte  of  every  man,  with  refpedl  to  both,  would 
to  himfelf  be  an  ultimate  ftandard.  But  as  the  con- 
viction of  a  common  ftandard  is  univerfal  and  a 
branch  of  our  nature,  we  intuitively  conceive  a  taile 
to  be  right  or  good  if  conformable  to  the  commion. 
ftandard^  and  w^rong  or  bad  if  difconformable. 

No  particular  in  human  nature  is  more  univerfal,.' 
'than  the  uneafmefs  a  man  feels  when  in  matters  off 
importance  his  opinions  are  rejefted  by  others  :  why'' 
ftiOuld  ditFerence  in  opinion  create  uneaftnefs,  m^ore 
than  diiTerence  in  ft.ature,  in  countenance,  or  in  drefs  ? 
Ihe  conviclion  of  a  common  ft:andard  explains  the 
myftery  :  every  man,  generally  fpeaking,  taking  it 
for  granted  that  his  opinions  agree  with  the  comimou 
fenfe  of  mankind,  is  therefore  difgufted  with  thofe 
who  think  differently,  not  as  differing  from  him,  but 
as  diflering  from  the  common  ftandard  :  hence  in  all 
difputes,  we  find  the  parties,  each  of  them  equally 
appealing  conftantly  to  the  common  fenfe  of  mankind 
as  the  ultimate  rule  or  ftandard.  With  reipetf  to 
points  arbitrary  or  indifferent,  which  are  not  fuppofed 
to  be  regulated  by  any  ftandard^  individuals  are  per- 

VoL.'lI.  A  a  milted 


J 


86  Standard  of  Tajh,  Ch.  XXsT^ 


mitted  to  think  for  themfelves  with  impunity  :  the 
fame  liberty  is  not  indulged  with  refpecl  to  points 
that  are  reckoned  of  moment  ;  for  v/hat  reafon, 
other  than  that  the  ftandard  by  which  thefe  are  reg- 
ulated, ought,  as  we  judge, to  produce  an  uniformity 
of  opinion  in  all  men  ?  In  a  word,  to  this  conviftion 
of  a  common  ftandard  muft  be  wholly  attributed,  the 
pleafure  we  take  in  thofe  who  efpoufe  the  fame  prin- 
ciples and  opinions  with  ourfelves,  as  well  as  the 
averfion  we  have  at  thofe  who  differ  from  us.  In 
matters  left  indifferent  by  the  flandard,  we  find  noth- 
ing of  the  fame  pleafure  or  pain  :  a  bookilh  man, 
unlefs  fwayed  by  convenience,  relifheth  riot  the  con- 
templative man  more  than  the  active  ;  his  friends  and 
companions  are  chofen  indifferently  out  of  either 
clafs  :  a  painter  conforts  with  a  poet  or  mufician,  as 
readily  as  with  thofe  of  his  own  art  ;  and  one  is  not 
the  more  agreeable  to  me  for  loving  beef,  as  I  do,  nor 
the  lefs  agreeable  for  preferring  mutton. 

I  have  ventured  to  fay,  that  my  difgufl  is  raifed, 
not  by  differing  from  me,  but  by  differing  from  v/hat 
I  judge  to  be  the  common  ftandard.  This  point,  be- 
ing of  importance,  ought  to  be  firmly  eflablifhed» 
Men,  it  is  true,  are  prone  to  flatter  themfelves,  by 
taking  it  for  granted  that  their  opinions  and  their 
talle  are  in  all  refpects  conformable  to  the  common 
ftandard  ;  but  there  may  be  exceptions,  and  experi- 
ence fliows  there  are  fome  :  there  are  inftances  with- 
out number,  of  perfons  who  are  addided  to  the 
grofier  amufements  of  gaming,  eating,  drinking, 
without  having  any  relifli  for  more  elegant  pieafures, 
fuch,  for  example,  as  are  afforded  by  the  fine  arts ;  yet 
thefe  very  perfons  talking  the  fame  language  with,  the 
reft  of  mankind,  pronounce  in  favour  of  the  more 
elegant  pieafures,  and  they  invariably  approve  thofe 
who  have  a  more  refined  tafte,  being  afliamed  of  their 

own 


Ch.  XXV.  Standard  of  Tajie.  387 

own  as  low  and  fenfual.  It  is  in  vain  to  think  of 
giving  a  reafon  for  this  fnigular  impartiality,  other 
than  the  authority  of  the  common  ftandard  with  re- 
fped  to  the  dignity  of  human  nature  :*  and  from  the 
inflances  now  given,  we  difcover  that  the  authority 
of  that  ftandard,  even  upon  the  moft  grovelHng  fouls, 
is  fo  vigorous,  as  to  prevail  over  felf-partiality,  and 
to  make  them  defpife  their  own  tafte  compared  with 
the  more  elevated  tafte  of  others. 

Uniformity  of  tafte  and  fentiment  vefuking  from  • 
our  conviction  of  a  common  ftandard,  leads  to  two  \ 
important  final  caufes  :  the  one  refpefting  our  duty,| 
the  other  our  paftime.     Barely  to  meniion  the  firft( 
iOiall  be  fufficient,  becaufe  it  does  not  properly  belong  \ 
to   the  prefent  undertaking.     Unhappy  it  would  be  '' 
for  us   did  not  uniformity  prevail  in  morals  :   that 
our   actions   ftiould  uniformly  be  directed  to  what  is 
good   and   againft  what  is  ill,  is  the  greateft  bleffing 
in    fociety  ;  and   in  order   to  unifolrmity  of  action, 
uniformity  of  opinion  and  fentiment  is  indifpenfable. 

With  refpe6t  to  paftime  in  general,  and  the  fine 
arts  in  particular,  the  final  caufe  of  uniformity  is 
iliuftrious.  Uniformity  of  tafte  gives  opportunity 
for  fumptuous  and  elegant  buildings,  for  fine  gardens, 
and  extenfive  embeliiiliments,  which  pleafe  univer- 
fally  ;  and  the  reafon  is,  that  without  uniformity  of 
tafte,  there  could  not -be  any  fuitable  reward,  either 
of  profit  or  honour,  to'  encourage  men  of  genius  to 
labour  in  fiich  works,  and  to  advance  them  toward 
perfeftion.  The  fame  uniformity  of  tafte  is  equally 
necefiary  to  perfect  the  art  of  mufic,  fculpture,  and 
painting,  and  to  fupport  the  expenfe  they  require 
after  they  are  brought  to  perfeftion.  Nature  is  in 
every  particular  ccnfiftent  with  herfelf :  we  are 
framed  by  Nature  to  have  a  high  relifh  for  the  fine 

arts, 

*  ?cs  cbap.  II, 
A  a  2 


388  Standard  of  Tap.  Gh.  XXV, 

arts,  which  are  a  great  fource  of  happmefs,  and 
friendly  in  a  high  degree  to  virtue  :  we  are,  at  the 
fame  time,  framed  with  uniformity  of  tafte,  to  furnifh 
proper  objeds  tor  that  high  rehfli ;  and  if  uniformity 
did  not  prevail,  the  fine  arts  could  never  have  made 
■  any  figure. 

And  this  fuggefls  another  final  caufe  no  lefs  illuf- 
trious.     The  f^paration  of  men  into  different  claifes, 
jhy   birth,   office,  or   occupation,  however  necefl'ary, 
y!  tends  to  relax  the  connection  that  ought  to  be  among 
r   members   of  the  fame  ft  ate  ;  which  bad  effect  is  in 
\    fome   meafure  prevented  by   the  accefs  all  ranks  of 
i!    people  have  to  public  fpeclaclesj  and  to  amufements 
that  are   befl  enjoyed  in  company.     Such  meetings, 
where  every   one  partc^kes  of  the  fame  pleafures  in. 
common,  .'.re  no  flight  fupport  to  the  focial  affedions. 
Thus,  upon  a  conviction  common  to  the  fpecies  is 
erecled  a  ftandard  of  tafte,  which  without  hefitaticn 
is    applied    to    the   tafte  of  every  individual.     That 
ftandard-,  afcertaining   what    aftions  are  right,  what 
wrong,   what  proper,   what  improper,   hath  enabled 
moralifls   to   eftablifh   rules   for   our   conduct,  from 
which  no  perfon  is   permitted  to  fwerve.     \\[q.  have 
the  fame  iiandard  for  afcertaining  in  all  the  fine  arts, 
what  is  beautiful  or  ugly,  high  or  low,  proper  or  im- 
proper, proportioned  or  difpropordoned  :  and  here,  as 
in  morals,  we  juftiy  condemn  every  tafte  that  deviates 
from  what  is  thus  afccrtained  by  the  common  ftandard. 
That  there  exifts  a  rule  or  ftandard  in  nature  for 
trying  the  tafte  of  individuals,  in  the  fine  arts  as  well 
as  in  morals,  is  a  tiiicovery  ;  but  is  not  fufficient  to 
comiplete  the  tailv  undertaken.     A  branch  liill  more 
important  remains  upon  hand  ;  which   is,   to  afcer- 
tain  what  is  truly  the  ftandard  of  nature,   that  we 
may  not  lie  open  to  have  a  fiilfe  ftandard  impofed  on- 
us.    But  what  means  fhall  be  employed  for  bringing 
to  light  this  natural  llaij^dard  ?  This  is  not  obvious  ; 

for 


Ch.  XXV.  Slandat^d  of  Tap,  3S9 

for  when  we  have  recourfe  to  general  opinion  and 
general  pracllce,  we  are  betrayed  into  endlefs  pclplex- 
kies.     Hiftory  informs  us,  that  nothing  is  more  vari- 
able than  tafle  in  the  iine  arts  :  judging  by  numbers, 
the  Gothic  tafte  of  architedure  muft  be  preferred 
before  that  of  Greece,   and  the  Chinefe  taile  proba- 
bly before  either.     It  would  be  endlefs  to  recount  the 
various  taftes  that   have  prevailed  in  diirerent   ages 
with  refpe6t  to  gardening,  and  ffill  prevail  in  diirer- 
ent countries.     Defpifing  the   modeil  colouriiig  of 
nature,  women  of  fafliion  in  France  daub  their  cheeks 
with  a  red  powder  ;  nav,   an  unnatural   fwelling  irt 
the  neck,  peculiar  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  Alps,  is 
reliflied  by  that  people.     But  we  ought  not  to  be  dif- 
couraged  by  fucli  untoward  inftances,  when  we  find 
as  great  variety  in  moral  opinions  :  was  it  not  among 
fome  nations  held  lawful  for  a  man  to  fell  his  chil- 
dren for  flaves,  to  expofe   them  in  their  infancy  to 
wild  beads,  and  to  puniih  them  for  the  crime  of  their 
parents  ?  was  any  thing  more  common  than  to  mur- 
der an  enemy  in  cold  blood  ?  nay  more,  did  not  law 
once  authorife  the  abominable  practice  of  human  fac- 
rlfices,  no  lefs  impious  than  immoral  ?  Such  aberra- 
tions from  the  rules  of  morality  prove  only,  that  men, 
originally  favage  and  brutal,  acquire  not  rationality 
nor  delicacy  of  tade  till  they  be  long  difciphned  in 
fociety.     To  afcertain  the  rules  of  morality,  we  ap- 
peal not  to  the  common  fenfe  of  favages,  but  of  men 
in  their  more  perfed  ftate  :  and  we  make  the  fame 
appeal  in  forming  the  rules  that  ought  to  govern  the 
fme  arts  :  in  neither  can  we  fafely  rely  on  a  local  or 
tranfitory  tafte  ;  but  on  what  is  the  moil  general  and 
the  molt  lading  among  polite  nations. 

In  this  very  manner,  a  fuandard  for  morals  has  been  • 
afcertalned  with  a  good  dpat  of  accuracy,  and  is  daily  '< 
applied  by  able  judges  with  general  fatisfaiflon.  The 
{landaid  of  tafte   in  the  faie  arts,  Is  not  yet  brought 
A  a  3  tq 


S90  Standard  of  Tajle,  '         Ch.  XX V« 

>  to  fuch  perfedion;  and  we  can  account  for  its  flower 
I  progrefs  :  the  fenfe  of  right  and  wrong  in  ac- 
'  tions  is  vivid  and  diftind,  becaufe  its  objetls  are 
clearly  diftinguifhable  from  each  other  ;  whereas  the 
fenfe  of  right  and  v/rong  in  the  fine  arts  is  faint  and 
wavering,  becaufe  its  objeds  are  commonly  not  fo 
clearly  diftinguifnable  from  each  other,  and  there 
appears  to  me  a  ftriking  final  caufe  in  thus  diflin- 
guifhing  the  moral  fenfe  from  the  fenfe  of  right  and 
wrong  in  the  fine  arts.  The  former,  as  a  rule  of 
condud,  and  as  a  law  we  ought  to  obey,  mult  be 
clear  and  authoritative.  The  latter  is  not  entitled  to 
the  fame  privilege,  becaufe  it  contributes  to  our  pleaf-. 
ure  and  amufement  only  :  were  it  flrong  and  livelya 
it  would  ufurp  upon  our  duty,  and  call  off  the  atten- 
tion from  matters  of  greater  moment :  were  it  clear 
and  authoritative,  it  would  banifh  all  difference  of 
tafte,  leaving  no  diftindion  between  a  refined  tafte 
and  one  that  is  not  fo  :  which  would  put  an  end  to 
rivalfhip,  and  confequently  to  all  improvement. 

But  to  return  to  our  fubjed.  However  languid 
and  cloudy  the  com.mon  fenfe  of  mankind  may  be  as 
to  the  fine  arts,  it  is  notwithfianding  the  only  fland- 
srd  in  thefe  as  v.'cii  as  in  morals.  True  it  is  indeed, 
that   in    gathering  the  common   fenfe   of  mankind, 

•  more  circumfpedion  is  requifite  with  refped  to  the 
fine  arts  than  with  refped  to  morals  :  upon  the  lat- 
ter, any  perfon  maybe  confulted:  but  in  the  former, 
a.  wary  choice  is  neceifary,  for  to  colled  votes  in- 
differently would  certainly  miilead  us.  Thofe  who 
depend  for  food  on  bodily  labour,  are  totally  void  of 
tafle  ;  of  fuch  a  tafte  at  leaf!  as  can  be  of  ufe  in  the 
fine  arts.  This  confideration  bars  the  greater  part  of 
mankind  ;  and  of  the  remaining  part,  many  by  a  cor- 

•  rupted  tafte  are  unqualified  for  voting.     The  com- 
\mon  fenfe  of  mankind  muft  then  be  confined  to  the 

few 


€h.  XXV.  Standard  of  Tafic,  391 

-few  that  fall  not  under  thefe  exceptions.     But  as\ 
fuch  feleftion  feems  to  throw  matters  again  into  un- 
certainty, we  mufl  be  more  explicit  upon  this  branch 
of  our  fubjed. 

Nothing  tends  more  than  voluptuoufnefs  to  cor- 
rupt the  whole  internal  frame,  and  to  vitiate  our 
tafte,  not  only  in  the  fine  arts,  but  even  in  morals  :  ' 
Voluptuoufnefs  never  fails,  in  courfe  of  time,  to  ex- 
tinguifh  all  the  fympathetic  affeftions,  and  to  bring 
on  a  beaftly  felfilhnefs,  which  leaves  nothing  of  man 
but  the  fliape  :  about  excluding  fuch  perfons  there 
will  be  no  difpute.  Let  us  next  bring  under  trial,  | 
the  opulent  who  delight  in  expenfe  :  the  appetite  for  j 
fuperiority  and  refpeft,  inflamed  by  riches,  is  vented  ' 
upon  coilly  furniture,  numerous  attendants,  a  prince- 
ly dwelling,  fumptuous  feafts,  every  thing  fuperb 
and  gorgeous,  to  amaze  and  humble  all  beholders  : 
fimplicity,  elegance,  propriety,  and  things  natural, 
fweetor  amiable,  are  defpifed  or  neglected  :  for  thefe 
are  not  appropriated  to  the  rich,  nor  make  a  figure 
in  the  public  eye  :  in  a  word,  nothing  is  relifhed, 
but  what  ferves  to  gratify  pride,  by  an  imaginary  ex- 
altation of  the  poffeffor  above  thofe  who  furround 
him.  .  Such  fentiments  contrad  the  heart,  and  make 
every  principle  give  way  to  felf-love  :  benevolence 
and  public  fpirit,  with  all  their  refined  emotions,  are 
little  felt,  and  lefs  regarded  ;  and  if  thefe  be  exclud- 
ed, there  can  be  no  place  for  the  faint  and  delicate 
emotions  of  the  fine  arts. 

The  exclufion  of  claiTes  fo   many  and  numerous, 
reduces  within  a  narrow  compafs  thofe  who  are  qual- 
ified to  be  judges   in  the  fine  arts.     Many  circum-; 
fiances  are   neceffaiy  to  form  fuch  a  judge  :  There  ' 
mufl  be  a  good   natural  tafle  ;  that  is,  a  tafle  ap-| 
proaching,  at  leafi:  in  fonie   degree  to  the  delicacy; 
jof  tafle  above  defcribed  :*  that  tafle   mull  be  im- 
proved    ' 

*  Chap.  2.  part  c, 

A  a  4 


392  Standard  of  Tajie,  Ch.  XXV. 

proved  by  education,  refieclion,  and  experience  :* 
it  mud  be  preferved  in  vigour  by  living  regularly, 
by  ufing  the  goods  of  fortune  with  moderation,  and 
by  following  the  didates  of  improved  nature,  which 
give  welcome  to  every  rational  pleafure  without  in- 
dulging any  excefs.  This  is  the  tenor  of  life  which 
of  all  contributes  the  moft  to  refinement  of  tafte  ; 
and  the  fame  tenor  of  life  contributes  the  moil  to 
happinefs  in  general. 

If  there  appear  much   uncertainty   in  .a   ftandard 
that  requires  fo  painful  and  intricate  a  feledion,  we 
may  poffibly  be  reconciled    to  it  by  the   following 
confideration,  That,  with  refpecl  to  the  fine  arts,  there 
is  lefs  difference  of  ta[l:e  than  is  commonly  imagined. 
Nature  hath  marked   all   her  works   Vv'ith  indelible 
characlers  of  high  or  low,   plain  or  elegant,  ftrong 
or  weak  :  thefc,  if  at  all  perceived,  are  feidora  mil- 
apprehended  ;  and  the  fame  marks  are  equally  per- 
•  teptible  in  works  of  art.     A  defective  tafte  is  incur- 
able J 

*  That  triefe  particulars  are  ui'eful,  it  rnay  be  fii'td  neceffary,  for  ac- 
quiring a  dii'ceinin^T  ta'ie  in  the  fine  arts,  will  appear  from  the  following 
fa61s,  which  'bow  ihe  influence  of  ex'jerience  fi;:gly.  Thofe  who  live  in' 
the  world  and  in  go'.id  conioany,  are  quick-fighted  with  relpeft  to  every 
defi'fl  or  irreg\i!aritv  in  behaviour  :  the  very  flighted  fingularity  in  mo- 
tion, in  fpeech,  or  in  dr  fs,  which  to  a  pcafant  would  be  invifible,  efcapes 
no!  th.eir  obfeivation.  The  mod  minuie  differences  in  the  human  coun- 
tenance, fo  minute  a?  to  be  far  beyond  ihe  reach  of  words,  are  diflinftly 
perceived  by  the  plained  perfon  ;  while  at  the  fame  time,  the  generality 
liave  very  liitle  difcernment  in  the  faces  of  other  animals  to  which  they 
are  lef^  accudomed  :  Sheep,  for  example,  appear  to  have  all  the  fame 
face,  except  to  the  diepherd,  who  knows  every  individual  in  his  flock  as 
he  does  his  relations  and  neighbours.  The  very  populace  m  Athens  were 
critics  in  language,  in  pronunciation,  and  even  in  eloquence,  harrangues 
being  their  d^ily  entertainment.  In  Rome,  at  prefcnt,  the  mod  illiterate 
ibopkeeper  is  a  better  judge  of  flatucs  and  of  piflures,  than  perfons  of  re- 
lined  education  in  London.  Thefe  fafts  a.Tord  convincing  evidence,  that 
a  dlfceruing  tade  depends  dill  more  on  experience  than  on  nature.  But 
thefe  fafts  merit  peculiar  regard  for  another  reafon,  that  they  open  to  u-? 
a  fure  method  of  improving  our  tade  in  the  fine  arts  ;  which,  with  thole 
vyho  have  leilure  for  improvements,  ought  to  be  a  powerful  incitement 
to  cultivate  a  tade  in  thefe  aits:  an  occupation  that  cani,ot  fail  to  em- 
bellith  their  inantiers,  and  to  fwcetcn  fociety. 


Ch.  XXV.  Standard  of  Tafle.  393 

able  ;  and  It  hurts  none  but  the  poiTefibr,  becaufe 
It  carries  no  authority  to  impcfe  upon  others.  I 
know  not  if  there  be  fuch  a  thmg  as  ataile  naturally 
biul  or  wrong  ;  a  talte  tor  example,  that  prefers  a 
groveling  pleafure  before  one  that  is  high  and  ele- 
gant :  groveling  pleafures  are  never  preferred  ;  they 
are  only  made  welcome  by  thofe  who  know  no  bet- 
ter. Differences  about  objefts  of  tafte,  it  is  true, 
^re  endleis  ;  but  they  generaiiy  concern  trifles,  or 
poiiibiy  matters  of  equal  rank,  where  preference  may 
be  given  either  way  with  impunity  :  if,  on  any  occa-  . 
fion,  perfons  dijter  where  they  ought  not,  a  deprav- 
ed talle  will  readily  be  difcovered  on  one  or  other 
fide,  occafioned  by  imitation,  cuftom,  or  corrupted 
manners,  fuch  as  are  defcribed  above.  And  confid- 
ering  that  every  individual  partakes  of  a  commoa 
nature,  what  is  there  that  fhould  occafion  any  wide- 
difference  in  tafte  or  fentiment  ?  By  the  principles 
that  conftitute  the  fenfative  part  of  our  nature,  a 
wonderful  uniformity  is  preferved  in  the  eniotions 
and  feelings  of  the  dilterent  races  of  men  ;  the  fame 
object  making  upon  every  perfon  the  fame  impref- 
iion,  the  fame  in  kind,  if  not  in  degree.  There 
have  been,  as  above  obferved,  aberrations  from  thcfe 
principles  ;  but  foon  or  late  they  prevail,  and  reltore 
the  wanderer  to  the  right  tra^L 

I  know  but  of  one  other  means  for  afcertaining  the 
common  fenfe  of  nicjaikind  ;  vv-hich   I  micntion,  not 
in   defpair,  but  in  great  confidence  of  fucceis.     A?,  1 
the    tafte    of  every    individual    oug-ht   to  be    gov-  \ 
crncd  by  the  principles  above  mentioned,  an  appeal    '' 
to  thefe  piinciples  jnuft  nccefiarily  be  decifive  of  ev- 
ery controveriv  that  can  arife  upon  matters  of  tafte. 
4n  general,  every  doubt  with  relation  to  the  connnon 
enfc  of  man,  or-ftandard  of'tafte,  rnay  be  cleared  by 
the   fame  appeal  ;  and   to  unfold  thcf^  principles  is 
tlic  declared  purpofe  of  tlic  prefect  undertaking. 

ylppcndix. 


APPENDIX. 

Terms  Defined  or  Explained* 


LIVERY  ihijig  we  perceive  or  are  con- 
fcious  of,  whether  a  being  or  a  quality,  a  paflion  or 
an  ad  ion,  is  with  refpefl:  to  the  percipient  termed  an 
obje8.  Some  objefts  appear  to  be  internal,  or 
within  the  mind  ;  paifion,  for  example,  thinking, 
volition  :  Some  external ;  fuch  as  every  objed;  of 
fight,  of  hearing,  of  fmell,  of  touch,  of  tafte. 

2.  That  aft  of  the  mind  which  makes  known  to 
me  an  external  objecl',  is  termed  perception.  That 
a6l  of  the  mind  which  makes  known  to  me  an  inter- 
nal objed:,  is  termed  conjcioufnefs.  The  power  or 
faculty  from  which  confcioufnefs  proceeds,  is  termed 
an  internal  fenfe.  The  power  or  faculty  from  which 
perception  proceeds,  is  termed  an  external  fenfe. 
This  diilinction  refers  to  the  objeds  of  our  knowl- 
edge ;  for  the  fenfes,  whether  external  or  internal, 
are  all  of  them  powers  or  faculties  of  the  mind.* 

3.  But  as  felf  is  an  objeft  that  cannot  be  termed 
either  external  or  internal,  the  faculty  by  which  I 

have 

*  I  have  complied  ^^^'lth  all  who  have  gone  before  me  in  defcribing  the 
fenfes  internal  and  external  to  be  powers  or  faculties;  and  yet,  after 
i;uich  attention,  I, have  not  difcoveied  any  thing  aftive  in  their  operations 
40  entitle  them  to  that  character.  The  following  chain  of  thought  has 
led  me  to  hefitatc.  One  being  operates  on  another :  the  firft  is  aSivc, 
the  other  pnllive.  If  the  fiiR  aft,  it  muH  li'ave  a  power  to  aft  :  if  an  ef- 
feft  be  pioduccd  on  the  other,  it  muft  have  a  capacity  to  have  that  ef- 
feft  producfd  upon  it.  Fire  melts  wax,  fro'O  fire  has  a  power  to  pro- 
duce that  efFeft  ;  and  wax  muR  be  capable  to  have  that  effcft  produced 
in  it.  Now  as  to  liie  fenfes.  A  tree  in  flourifli  makes  an  imprefiion  od 
jnc,  and  by  that  means  1  fee  the  tree.  But  in  this  operation  I  do  not 
iind  that  the  mitid  is  aftive  ;  feeing  the  tree  is  only  an  cfteft  produced 
«)nit  by  intervention  of  the  rays  of  liiht.  What  feems  to  have  led  us 
into  an  error  is  the  word  feeing,  which,  under  the  foim  of  an  aftive 
v;-ib,  i-.as  a  paflivc  fi^nification.  ^fcd  is  a  fiinilar  example  ;  for  io  feel* 
is  ceitaiidy  not  to  aft,  but  the  fffcftof  beioE;  aflcd  upon  :  thefecliiJ 
plcafuie  is  the  tifefl  produced  in  my  m;nd  wheti  a  beautii'^iil  objeft  is 
l.icfcnted.  Peiccpiion  accordingly  is  net  an  aftion,  but  an  cfTeft  (:ro- 
di;ced  in  the  mind.  "  Senfation  is  another  elTeft  :  it  is  the  nlcaiure  { 
iz'A  apon  perceiving   whjt  is  agreeable. 


Terms  Defined  or  Explained,  395 

liave  knowledge  of  myfelf,  is  a  fenfe  that  cannot 
properly  be  termed  either  internal  or  external. 

4.  By  the  eye  we  perceive  figure,  colour,  motion, 
&;c.  by  the  ear  we  perceive  the  different  qualities  of 
found,  high,  low,  loud,  foft  :  by  touch  we  perceive 
rough,  fmooth,  hot,  cold,  &c.  by  taile  we  verceive 
fweet,  four,  bitter,  &c.  by  fmell  we  perceive  fragrant, 
fetid,  &c.  Thefe  qualities  partake  the  common  na- 
ture of  all  qualities,  that  they  are  not  capable  of  an. 
independent  exiflence,  but  muft  belong  to  fome  be- 
ing of  which  they  are  properties  or  attributes.  A  being 
with  refped  to  its  properties  or  attributes  is  termed 
a  fiibjcd  or  fuhjlraivm.  Every  fubftratum  of  vifible 
qualities,  is  tcYmedfuh/fa?2ce  ;  and  of  tangible  quali- 
ties, body. 

5.  "Subftance  and  found  are  perceived  as  exifting 
at  a  diilance  from  the  organ  ;  often  at  a  confiderable 
diftance.  But  fmell,  touch,  and  tafte,  arc  perceived 
as  exifling  at  the  organ  of  fenfe. 

6.  The  objeds  of  external  fenfe  are  various.  Sub- 
ilances  are  perceived  by  the  eye  ;  bodies  by  the 
touch.  Sounds,  tafles,  and  fmells,  pafTmg  common- 
ly under  the  niyne  of  fecondary  qualities,  require 
more  explanation  than  there  is  room  for  here.  All 
the  objefts  of  internal  fenfe  are  attributes  :  witnefs 
deliberation,  reafoning,  refolution,  willing,  confent- 
ing,  which  are  internal  anions.  Pafiions  and  emo- 
tions, which  are  internal  agitations,  are  alfo  attributes. 
With  rep-ard  to  the  former,  I  am  confcious  of  beino- 
aftive  ;  with  regard  to  the  latter,  I  am  confcious  of 
being  pailive. 

7.  Again,  we  are  confcious  of  Internal  aclion  as  ir^ 
the  head  ;  of  pailions  and  emotions  as  in  the  heart. 

^    8.  Many  acHons  may   be  exerted  internally,  and 

^lany  elfcds  produced,  of  which  we  are  unconfcious : 

when  we  invefiigatc  the   ultimate  cap.fe  of  the   mo- 


39^ 


Terms  Defined  or  EKjjIalned. 


tion  of  the  blood,  and  of  other  internal  motions  upon 
which  hfe  depends,  it  is  the  mofl  probable  opinion, 
that  fonie  internal  power  is  the  caiife  ;  and  if  fo,  we 
are  unconicious  of  the  operations  of  that  power. 
But  confcionfnefs  being  implied  in  the  very  meaning 
of  delibw/ating,  reafoni ng,  refolving,  willing,  confent- 
ing,  fuch  operations  cannot  efcape  our  knowledge. 
The  fame  is  the  cafe  of  paffions  and  emotions  ;  for 
no  internal  agitation  is  denominated  a  paffion  or 
emotion,  but  wliat  we  are  cojifcious  of. 

9.  The  mind  is  not  always  the  fame  :  by  turns  it 
is  cheerful,  melancholy,  calm,  peevifii,  &c.  Thefe 
differences  may  not  improperly  be  denominated  toties. 

10.  Perception  and  f^nfation  arc  commonly  reck- 
oned fynonimous  terms,  fignifying  that  internal  adt 
by  which  external  ob]e6ls  are  made  known  to  us. 
But  they  ought  to  be  difliinguiihed.  Perceiving  is  a 
general  term  for  hearing,  f::jeing,  tading,  touching, 
fmelling  ;  and  therefore  perception  figniiies  every  in- 
ternal acl  by  which  we  are  made  acquainted  with  ex- 
ternal objects  :  thus  we  are  faid  to  perceive  a  certain 
animal,  a  certain  colour,  found,  tafte,  fmell,  &c.  SeUf- 

fdtion  properly  fignihes  that  internal  a'5t  by  which 
v;e  are  made  confcio.us  of  pleafure  or  pain  felt  at  the 
organ  of  fenfe  :  thus  we  have  a  fenfation  of  the  pleaf- 
ure arifing  from  warmth,  from  a  fragrant  fmell,  from 
a  fweet  tafle  ;  and  of  the  pain  arlfmg  from  a  wound, 
from  a  fetid  fmell,  from  a  difagreeable  talle.  In  per- 
ception, my  attention  is  direcled  to  the  external  ob- 
jecl  :  in  fenfa,tion,  it  is  direftcvl  to  the  pleafure  or- 
pain  I  feel. 

The  terms  pcrrchlim  and  fcnfailon  are   fometimes 
employed  to  'figulfy   the   objects   of  perception  and 
fenfation.     Perception  in  that  fenfe  is  a  general  term  ^ 
for  every  external  thing  we  perceive  ;  and  fenfation^ 
a  general  term  for  every  pleafure  and  pain  felt  at  the 
orggin  of  fenfe. 

II.  Conception, 


Ternis  Defined  or  Explained.  397 

;  !i.  Conception  is  different  fi-om  perception.  The 
latter  includes  a  conviclion  of  the  reality  of  its  ob- 
ject :  the  former  does  not ;  for  I  can  conceive  the 
moft  extravagant  flories  told  in  a  romance,  without 
having  any  conviction  of  their  reality^  Conception 
diiFers  alfo  from  imagination.  By  the  power  of  fancy 
I  can  imagine  a  golden  mountain,  or  an  ebony  fliip 
with  fails  and  ropes  of  filk.  When  I  defcribe  a  pic- 
ture of  that  kind  to  another,  the  idea  he  forms  of  it 
is  termed  a  conception.  Imagination  is  adive,  con- 
ception is  pallive/^ 

12.  Feeling,  befide  denoting  one  of  the  external 
fenfesj  is  a  general  term,  fignifying  that  internal  act 
by  which  we  are  made  confcious  of  our  pleafures  and 
our  pains  ;  for  it  is  not  limited,  as  fenfation  is,  to 
any  one  fort.  Thus,  feeling  being  the  genus  of 
which  fenfation  is  a  fpecies,  their  meaning  is  the 
fame  when  applied  to  pleafure  and  pain  felt  at  the  or- 
gan of  fenfe  :  and  accordingly  we  fay  indifferently, 
"  I  feel  pleafure  from  heat,  and  pain  from  cold,"  or, 
*'  I  have  a  fenfation  of  pleafure  from  heat,  and  of 
pain  from  cold."  But  the  meaning  of  feeling,  as  is 
laid,  is  much  more  extcnfive  :  It  is  proper  to  fay,  I 
feel  pleafure  in  a  fumptuous  building,  in  love,  in  friend- 
fliip  ;  and  pain-in  lofmg  a  child,  in  revenge,  in  envy  : 
fenfation  is  not  properly  applied  to  any  of  thefe. 

']'he  icnw  feeling  is  frequently  ufed  in  a  lefs  proper 
fenfe,  to  lignify  what  we  feel  or  are  confcious  of  : 
and  in  that  fenfe  it  is  a  general  term  for  ail  oar  paf- 
fions  and  emotions,  and  for  all  our  other  pleafures 
and  pains. 

13.  That  we  cannot  perceive  an  external  objedi: 
till  an  impreffion  is  made  upon  our  body,  is  probable 

jfc-om  reafon,  and  is  afcertained  by  experience.  But 
It  is  not  neceffary  that  we  be  made  fenfible  of  the  im- 
prefiion  :  in  touching,  in  tailing, .jmd  in  fmcllinr;,  we 

are 


39^  Terms  Defined  or  Explained, 

are  fenfible  of  the  impreffiori  ;  but  not  in  feeing  and 
hearing.  VxTe  know  indeed  from  experiments,  that 
before  we  perceive  a  vifible  object,  its  image  is  fpread 
iipon  the  retina  tunica  ;  and  that,  before  we  perceive 
a  found,  an  impreffion  is  made  upon  the  drum  of  the 
'^ar  :  but  we  are  not  confcious  either  of  the  organic 
image  or  of  the  organic  impreffion  ;  nor  are  we  con- 
fcious of  any  other  operation  preparatory  to  the  acl 
of  perception  :  all  we  can  fay,  is,  that  we  fee  that 
river,  or  hear  that  trumpet.* 

14.  Objefts  once  perceived  may  be  recalled  to 
the  mind  by  the  power  of  memory.  When  I  recal 
an  objecl  of  fight  in  that  manner,  it  appears  to  me 
precifely  the  fame  as  in  the  original  furvey,  only  lefs 
diftii^iSt.  For  example,  having  feen  yeflerday  a 
fpreading  oak  growing  on  the  brink  of  a  river,  I  en- 
deavour to  recal  thefe  objects  to  my  mind.  How  is 
this  operation  performed  ?  Do  I  endeavour  to  form 
in  my  mind  a  pitbure  of  them  or  reprefentative  im- 
age ?  Not  fo.  I  tranfport  myfelf  ideally  to  the  place 
where  I  faw  the  tree  and  river  yeiferday  ;  upon  which 
I  have  a  perception  of  thefe  objects,  fimilar  in  all  re- 
fpefts  to  the  perception  I  had  when  I  vievv-ed  them 
with  my  eyes,  only  lefs  didinft.  And  in  this  recollec- 
tion, I  am  not  confcious  of  a  picture  or  reprefentative 
image,  more  than  in  the  original  furvey  :  the  percep- 
tion is  of  the  tree  and  river  tliemfclves,  as  at  firil. 
I  confirm  this  by  another  experiment.  After  atten- 
tively furveying  a  fine  flatue,  I  clofe  my  eyes.  What 
follov^'s  ?  The  fame  objefl  continues,   without  any 

difference 

*  Yet  a  finoular  opinion  that  impreiTion^  are  t'le  only  objefls  of  per- 
ception, has  bscn  efpoiifed  by  fomc  phiiofophers  of  no  mean  rank  ;  not 
attending  to  the  forcnomg  peculiarity  \n  the  fenfcs  of  feeing  and  hcaring|k^ 
th:n  \vc  perceive  objetls  without  being  confcious  of  an  organic  impreffici^Bf 
cr  of  any  imprelTicn.  Sec  the  Trcatife  upon  Huir.nn  Nature  :  where 
'.ve  find  the  following  DafFacre,  bonk  !.  p.  4.  feft.  9.  "  Properly  fpcaking, 
it  is  not  our  bodv  we  perceive  when  we  regard  our  limbs  and  members ; 
T)  that  the  afcribing  a  real  and  corporeal  exiflcnce  to  thefe  impreffions, 
or  to  tlicir  object-,  is  an  aft  of  thi.-  mind  as  diflicult  to  explairj,  &c.'' 


Terms  Defined  or  Explained*  39^ 

-difterence  but  that  it  is  lefs  diflind  than  formerly.* 

This 

*  This  experiment,  which  every  one  may  reiterate  till  entire  fatisfac- 
tion  be  obtained,  is  of  greater  importance  thanat  firll  view  may  appear  ; 
for  it  flrikes  at  the  root  of  a  celebrated  dofirine,  which  for  moie  than 
two  thoufand  yeais  has  miiled  many  philofophers.  This  doflrine  as  de- 
lived  by  Ariftotle  is  in  fiibllancc,  "That  of  every  objefl  of  thought 
there  mud  he  in  the  mind  fome  form,  phantafm,  or  fpccies  ;  that  things 
fenfible  are  perceived  and  remembered  by  means  ot  lenlible  phantafms, 
and  things  intelligible  by  mtelligible  phantafms  ;  and  that  thefe  phan- 
tafms have  the  form  of  the  objeti  without  the  matter,  as  the  impreflioi! 
of  a  fcal  upon  wax  has  the  foim  of  a  feal  without  its  matter."  The  fol- 
lowers of  Aridotle  add,  "  That  the  fenfible  and  intelligible  forms  of 
things,  are  fent  forth  from  the  things  themfelves,  and  make  impreiTions 
upon  thepaffive  intellett,  which  impreffions  are  perceived  by  the  atlive 
intelleft.''  This  notion  dirlers  very  little  from  that  of  Epicurus,  which 
is,  "  That  all  things  fend  foith  conilantly  and  in  every  direftion,  flender 
gholls  or  films  of  themfelves.  [ttimia  fmulacra,  as  expreffecf  by  his 
commentator  Lucretius  ;)  which  ftriking  \ipovi  t'.ie  mind,  are  the  means 
of  perception,  dreaming,"  £?c.'  Des  Cartes,  bent  to  oppofe  Ariflotle, 
rejefts  the  doftiine  of  ienhble  and  intelligible  phantafms  ;  maintaining 
however  the  fame  doitriiii:  jji  tflcfl,  namely,  That  vvc  perceive  nothing 
-external  but  by  means  of  fome  image  either  in  the  brain  or  in  the  mind  : 
and  thefe  images  he  terms  ideas.  According  to  thefe  philofophers,  we 
perc.'ive  nothing  immediately  but  phantafms  or  ideas ;  and  ftom  thefe 
we  infer,  by  reafoJiing,  the  exiftence  of  external  objc6ls<  Lccke,  adopt- 
ing this  doftrine,  employs  almoil  the  whole  of  his  book  about  ideas. 
He  holds,  that  we  cannot  perceive,  remember,  nor  imagine,  any  thin?, 
but  by  having  an  idea  or  image  of  it  in  the  m.lnd.  fie  agrees  with  Des 
Caites,  tirat  we  can  have  no  knowledge  of  things  external,  but  what  we 
acquire  by  leafoniiig  upon  their  ideas  or  images  in  the  mind;  takingit  for 
granted,  that  we  are  confcicus  of  thefe  ideas  or  images;  and  of  noth- 
ing elfe.  Thofe  who  talk  the  molt  intclUgibly  explain  the  doftrine 
thus  :  When  I  (ee  in  a  mirror  a  man  Handing  behind  me,  the  immedi- 
ate objeft  of  my  fight  is  his  image,  without  which  I  could  not  fee  him  r 
jnlike  manner,  when  I  fee  a  tree  or  a  hou''e,  there  mull;  be  an  image  of 
thelc  objefts  in  my  brain  or  in  my  mind  ;  which  image  is  the  immediate 
olijeft  of  my  perception  ;  and  by  means  of  that  image  I  perceive  the 
external  objeft. 

One  would  not  readily  fufpeft  any  harm  in  this  ideal  fydem,  other 
than  the  leading  us  into  a  labyrinth  of  m.etaphifical  errors,  in  order 
to  account  for  our  knowledge  of  external  objef-ls,  which  is  more  trulv 
•and  more  limply  accounted  for  by  direcs  perception.  And  yet  fome 
late  writers  have  been  able  to  extratf  from  it  death  and  deHruflion  to  the 
whole  world,  levelling  all  doA-n  to  a  mere  ciiaos  of  ideas.  Dr.  Berkeley, 
upon  authority  of  the  phiioiophers  named,    taking  for  granted,   that  wr 

«nnot  perceive  any  object  but  what  is  in  the  mind,  difcovercd,  that  the 
afoning  employed  by  Des  Caitts  and  Locke  to  infer  the  exiftence  of 
external  objects,  is  inconclulive  ;  and  upon  that  difcovery  ventured, 
rcainll  common  fcnfc,  to  anniliilate   totally  the  materia!  woild.     And  j 


iater 


^(bh  'Tcrhis  Defined  or  Explained, 

This  iiidiftinft  fecondary  perception  of  an  obje£l>  v^ 
termed  an  idea.     And  therefore  the  precife  and  ac-^ 

curate 

Ia!€r'\vtitcr,  difcoveringthat  Berkeler's  arguments  miplit  with  equal,  fuc- 
Ceis.be  applied  agaiuft  imniateiial  beings,  ventures  ii ill  more  boldly  to.  re- 
je<?l  nv  the  lump  the  immaterial  world  as  well  a;  ihe  maierial  :  leaving 
u'  tinngin  nature  but  images  or  id.'as  floating  in  vacuo,  without  afioiding 
thvw  <i  linr,Ic  mind  for  fheltcr  or  fuppoft.  .   \ 

.  When  kich  wild  and  extravagant  coiifeqnences  can  be  drawn  frf<m 
tlie  ideal  fyllem,  it  mi^ht  hiive  been  ex petlid,  that  no  man  who  is  not; 
f:razy  would  have  ventured  to  ere£t  iuch  a  fuperftru8ure,  till  he  fliould 
iirll  be  cei^tain  bevond  all  doubt  of  a  folid  foundation.  And  yet  Uj.on 
'Jnquiry,  w'e  find  the  foundation  of  this  terrible  doftrine  to  be  no  belter 
than  a  fiijllow  meiaphylical  arginric  t,  «f2?Kf/;)',  "That  no  being  can  att 
l)ut  wheie  it  is^ ;  and,  confequei/Jv,  :hat  it  cannot  aft  upon  any  lubjeft  at 
a  dlRancc.'^  This  argument  pon'tfTes indeed  one  eminent  advantaj^e,  that 
jti  obicurity,  like  that  of  an  oracle,  is  ar>t  to  impoic  upon  the  reader,- 
•who  lA  willing  to  conlider  it  as  a  dcmonflration,  becaufe  he  dues  not 
clearly  fee  the  fallacy.  The  bed  way  to  give  it  a  fair  tiial,  is  to  draw  it 
out  of  its  obfcurity,  and  to  fiate  It  in  a  clear  light,  as  follows.  "  No 
fubje£l  can  be  perceived  unjefs  it  atl  upon  the  mind,  but  no  diflant  fub- 
jc  tt  can  aft  upon  the  mind,  bccaufe  no  beitig  can  aft  but  where  it  is :  and, 
therefore,  the  immediate  objeft  of  [crccption  imiill  be  fomething  united 
lo  the  mind  fo  as  to  be  able  to  aft  upon  it.".  Heie  the  argument  is  com- 
pleted in  all  its  parts;  and  from  itis  derived  the  fuppofed  nccellity  of  phan- 
tal'ins  or  ideas  united  to  the  mind,  as  the  only  ubjcfts  of  perception.  It  is 
fingularlv  unluck",  that  this  argument  concludes  direttly  againlt  the  very 
fyllcm  of  which  it  is  the  only  fouridation  ;  for  how  can  phantai'ms  or  ideas 
be  railed  in  the  mind  by  things  at  a  diflancc,  if  things  at  a  diilancc  can- 
riot  aft  upon  the  m;nd  i*  I  fay  more,  that  it  affumcs  a  jjropoiition  as  true^ 
vyithout  evidence,  namely^  That  nodiltant  fubjetf  can  aft  upon  the  mind^ 
This  [iropofition  undoubtedly  retjuires  evidence,  for  itis  not  intuitively- 
certain.  And,  therefore,  till  the  propolition  be  de.inonil rated,  eveiy  man 
■without  fcruple  may  rely  upon  the  convi£tion  of  his  Icnfes,  that  he  hears 
and  fees  things  a;  a  diilancc.,  " 

But  I  Vv?iuure  a  bolder  I'ep,  which  is,  to  fhow  that  the  propolition  is 
falfe.  A.dniitting  that  no  being  can  aft  but  where  itis,  is  there  any  thing 
more  (imple  or  mnre  common,  than  the  sfting  upon  Iubjefts  at  a  diila.ncc 
by  intf-rniediate  me-ins  ?  This  holds  in  fa£t  with  refpcft  both  to  feeing 
and  hearing.  When  1  f.  c  a  tree  for  example,  rays  of  light  arc  rcJltft- 
t;d  fi(;iii  the  tree  to  mv  eve,  forming  a  piftuic  upon  the  retina  tunica  i 
but  t!ie  objeft  perceived  is  the  tree  itfelf,  not  the  rays  of  light,  rur  the 
pifturc.  In  this  n)anner  diilant  rbjcfcls  are  peiceived,  without  any  ac- 
tion of  the  obje61  upon  the  mind,  or  of  the  mind  upon  the  objtft.. 
leaving  is  in  a  limilar  cafe  :  the  ear,  put  in  motion  by  thunder,  makes 
i»n  imprcffion  upon  the  drum  of  the  ear  ;  biit  this  inipreffion  is  not  what 
I  hear,  it  is  the  thunder  itfelf  by  means  of  that  impreflion.  ^ 

With  refpo6l  to  vifion  in  particular,  wc  arc  profoundly  ignorant  by 
^vhat  means  and  in  what  manner  the  pifture  oii  the  retina  tunica  contiih- 
utes  to  produce  a  fight  of  the  objeft.  One  thing  only  is  clear,  that  a.s 
vvc  have  no  knowledge  of  that  pifturc,  it  is  as  natuial  to  conceive  that  u 

Paould 


Terms  Defined  or  Explained.  4^t 

curate  definition  of  an  idea  in  contradiftindion  to  ati 
original  perception,  is,  "  That  perception  of  a  real  ob- 
jed  which  is  raifed  in  the  mind  by  the  power  of 
memory."  Every  thing  we  have  any  knowledge  of, 
whether  internal  or  external,  paflions,  emotions, 
thinking,  refolving,  willing,  heat,  cold,  &c.  as  well  as 
external  objefts,  may  be  recalled  as  above,  by  the 
power  of  memory.* 

15.  External  objeds  are  diftingulfhable  into  fim- 
ple  and  complex.  Certain  founds  are  fo  fimple  as 
not  to  be  refolvable  into  parts  ;  and  fo  are  certain 
taftes  and  fmells.  Objeds  of  touch  are  for  the  moft 
part  complex  :  they  are  not  only  hard  or  foft,  but 
alfo  fmooth  or  rough,  hot  or  cold.  Of  all  external 
objefts,  vifible  objefts  are  commonly  the  mofl  com- 
plex :  a  tree  is  compofed  of  a  trunk,  branches, 
leaves  :  it  has  colour,  figure,  fize.  But  as  an  ac- 
tion is  not  refolvable  into  parts,  a  perception  being 
an  acl  of  fenfe,  is  always  fimple.  The  colour,  figure, 
umbrage  of  a  fpreading  oak,  raife  not  different  per*, 
ceptions  :  the  perception  is  one,  that  of  a  tree,  col- 
oured, 

Ihould  be  made  the  JnRrument  of  difcovenng  the  external  objeft,  and 
not  iifelf,  as  of  difcovering  itfelf  only,  and  not  the  external  objeft. 

Upon  the  chimerical  confequences  drawn  from  the  ideal  lyfiem,  I  (hall 
make  but  a  fingle  refleftion.  Nature  determines  us  neceffarily  to  rely  on 
the  veracity  of  our  fenfes ;  and  upon  their  evidence  the  exiflence  of  ex- 
ternal objefts  is  to  us  a  matter  of  intuitive  knowledoe  and  abfolute  cer- 
tainty. Vain  therefore  is  the  attempt  of  Dr.  Berkeley  and  of  his  fol- 
lowers, to  deceive  us,  by  a  metaphyseal  fubtility,  into  adilbelief  of  what 
we  cannot  entertain  even  the  flightell  doubt. 

*  From  this  definition  of  an  idea,  the  following  propofition  mud  be 
evident,  That  there  can  be  no  fuch  thing  as  an  innate  idea.  If  the  orig- 
inal perception  of  an  nbjeft  be  not  innate,  which  is  obvious  ;  it  is  nos 
lefs  obvious,  that  the  idea  or  fecondary  perception  of  that  objed  cannot 
be  inn.tte.  And  yet  to  prove  ihis  i''elf-evldent  propofition,  Locke  has 
beftowed  a  whole  book  of  his  Treaiife  upoa  Human  Underiianding. 
Sonecen"ary  it  is  to  give  accurate  definitions,  and  fo  preventive  of  dif- 
pute  are  definitions  when  accurate.  Dr.  Berkeley  has  taken  great  pains 
to  prove  another  propofition  equally  evident,  that  there  can  be  no  fuch 
t'.ing  as  a  general  idea  :  all  our  original  perceptions  are  of  particular  eb- 
rcQs,  and  our  fecondary  perccr>tionsor   ideas  jnuft  be  equally  fo. 

Vol.  11,  Bb 


■40 i'  "^erms  Defined  or  "Explained* 

cured,  figured,  hz.  A  quality  is  never  perceived  fep=. 
araiely  from  the  fubjed  ;  nor  a  part  from  the  whole* 
There  is  a  mental  power  of  abftraclion,  of  v/hich  af-» 
tetvvard  ;  but  the  eye  never  abilrads,  nor  any  othe'/ 
external  fenfe. 

1 6.  Many  particulars  befide  thofe  mentioned  en- 
ter into  the  perception  of  vifible  obje6:s,  motion,  reft, 
place,  fpace,  time,  number,  &c.  Thefe,  all  of  them 
denote  fmiple  ideas,  and  for  that  reafon  admit  not 
of  a  definition.  All  that  can  be  done,  is  to  point  out 
how  they  are  acquired.  The  ideas  of  motion  and  of 
reft,  are  familiar  even  tcJ  a  child,  from  feeing  its  nurfe 
fometimes  walking,  fometimes  fitting  :  the  former  it 
is  taught  to  call  motion  ;  the  latter,  refi.  Place  enters 
into  every  perception  of  a  vifible  obje£l:  the  objed:  ia 
perceived  to  exift,  and  to  exift  fomewhere,  on  the 
right  hand  or  on  the  left,  and  where  it  exifts  is  i^xx^" 
^di  place.  Afk  a  child  where  its  mother  is,  or  in  what 
place  :  it  will  anfwer  readily,  flie  is  in  the  garden. 
Space  is  connecled  with  fize  or  bulk  ;  every  piece- 
pf  matter  occupies  rootn  01  fpace  in  proportion  to  its 
bulk.  A  child  perceives  that  when  its  little  box  is- 
filled  with  playthings,  there  is  no  room  or  fpace  for 
more.  Space  is  alfo  applied  to  fignify  the  diftance 
of  vifible  objects  from  each  other  ;  and  fuch  fpace 
accordingly  can  be  meafiired.  Dinner  comes  after 
breakfaft'-,  and  fupper  after  dinner  :  a  child  perceives 
an  inteival,  and  that  interval  it  learns  to  call  time, 
xA  child  fometimes  is  alone  with  its  nurfe  :  its  mother 
is  fometimes  in  the  room ;  and  fometimes  alfo 
its  brother  and  flfters.  It  perceives  a  difference  be- 
t\?een  many  and  few  ;  and  that  difl'erence  it  is  taught 
to  call  number. 

17.  The  primary  percept-" on  of  a  vifible  objeft,  is 
mere  crn.p]ete,  lively  and  diftincl,  than  that  of  any 
other  cbjcd.  And  for  that  reafon  an  ideaor  fecond- 
ary  perception  of  a  vifible  objeft,  is  alfo  more  com- 
plete, lively,  and  'diftinct,  than  that  of  any  other  ob- 

jed. 


Serins  Defined  or  Explame^,  403 

jefi:.  A  fine  paiTage  in  mufic,  may,  for  a  moment, 
be  recalled  to  the  mind  with  tolerable  accuracy  j  but 
after  the  lliortefl  interval,  it  becomes  no  lefs  ob- 
icure  than  the  ideas  of  the  other  objects  mentioned* 

1 8.  As  the  range  of  an  individual  is  commonly  with- 
•  in  a  narrow  fpace,  it  rarely  happens,  that  every  thing 

neceflary  to  be  known  comes  under  our  own  per- 
ceptions. Language  is  an  admirable  contrivance  for 
fupplying  that  deliciency  ;  for  by  language  every 
man's  perceptions  may  be  communicated  to  all:  and 
the  fame  may  be  done  by  painting  and  other  imita- 
tive arts.  The  facility  of  communication  depends  on 
the  livelinefs  of  the  ideas  ;  efpecially  in  language, 
■which  hitherto  has  not  arrived  at  greater  perfeftioii 
than  to  exprefs  clear  ideas  :  hence  it  is,  that  poets 
and  orators,  who  are  extremely  fuccefsful  in  defcrib- 
ing  objects  of  fight,  find  objeds  of  the  other  fenfes: 
too  faint  and  obfcure  for  language.  An  idea  thus 
acquired  of  an  object  at  fecond  hand,  ought  to  be 
diflinguifned  from  an  idea  of  memory,  though  their 
refemblance  has  occalioned  the  fame  term  idea  to  be 
applied  to  both  ;  which  is  to  be  regretted,  becaufe 
ambiguity  in  the  fignification  of  words  is  a  great  ob- 
ftruftion  to  accuracy  of  conception.  Thus  Natnre. 
hath  furnifiied  the  means  of  multiplying  ideas  with-- 
out  end,  and  of  providing  every  individual  with  a 
fufficient  flock  to  anfv/er,  not  only  the  necefiities, 
but  even  the  elegancies  of  life. 

19.  Further,  man  is  endued  with  a  fort  of  creative 
power  :  he  can  fabricate  images  of  things  thtit  have 
no  exiftence.  The  materials  employed  in  this  opera- 
tion, are  ideas  of  fight,  W'hich  he  can  take  to  pieces^ 
and  combine  into  new  forms  at  pleafure  :  their  com- 
plexity and  vivacity  make  them  fit  materials  :  But  a 
man  hath  no  fuch  power  over  any  of  his  other  ideas, 
whether  of  the  external  or  internal  fenfes :  he  Can- 
not, after  the  utmiod  effort,  combine  thefe  into  new 
forms,  being  too  obfcure  foj  that  operation.  An  ini* 

Bb  2  '  acre 


4ti4  '^erms  T)ejined  or  Exphhtfcl* 

age  thus  fabricated  cannot  be  called  a  fecon^aiV'- 
perception,  not  being  derived  from  an  original  per- 
ception :  the  poverty  of  language,  however,  as  in  the 
cafe  immediately  above  mentioned,  has  occafioned 
the  fame  term  idea  to  be  applied  to  all.  This  fmgu- 
lar  power  of  fabricating  images  without  any  founda- 
tion in  reality, is  diftinguiflied  by  the  name  imaginotlatiw^ 

10.  As  ideas  are  the  chief  materials  employed  ia 
reafoning  and  refle£ling,  it  is  of  confequence  that 
their  nature  and  differences  be  underftood.  It  ap' 
pears  now,  that  ideas  may  be  diilinguifhed  into  three 
kinds :  firfl.  Ideas  derived  from  original  perceptions 
properly  termed  ideas  of  memory  ;  fecond,  Ideas  com* 
municated  by  language  or  other  figns  ;  and,  third. 
Ideas  of  imagination.  Thefe  ideas  differ  from  each 
other  in  many  refpeds  ;  but  chiefly  in  refpe£t  of  ~ 
their  proceeding  from  different  caufes  :  The  firil 
kind  is  derived  from  real  exiftences  that  have  been 
objefts  of  our  fenfes  :  language  is  the  caufe  of  the 
fecond,  or  any  other  fign  that  has  the  fame  powe^ 
with  language  :  and  a  man's  imagination  is  to  him- 
felf  the  caufe  of  the  third.  It  is  Jcarce  neceffary  to 
add,  that  an  idea,  originally  of  imagination  being 
conveyed  to  others  by  language  or  any  other  vehi- 
cle, becomes  in  their  mind  an  idea  of  the  fecond 
kind  ;  and  again,  that  an  idea  of  this  kind,  being 
afterward  recalled  to  the  mind,  becomes  in  that  cir- 
cumftance  an  idea  of  memory. 

2 1 .  We  are  not  fo  conflituted  as  to  perceive  ob- 
jefl:s  with  indifference  ;  thefe,  with  fery  few  excep- 
tions, appear  agreeable  or  difagreeable  ;  and  at  the 
fame  time  raife  in  us  pleafant  or  painful  emotions. 
With  refped:  to  external  objefts  in  particular,  we 
dirtinguifii  thofe  which  produce  organic  imprefiions, 
from  thofe  which  affect  us  from  a  dillance.  When  we 
touch  a  foft  and  fmooth  body,  we  have  a  pleafant  feel- 
ing as  at  the  place  of  contad:  ;  which  fcehng  we  dif- 
tinguifii  not,  at  lerfil  not  accurately,  from  the  agree- 
*  '  abkneis 


^srms  Defined  or  Explained.  .  405 

tabieiiefs  of  the  body  itfelf  ;  and  the  fame  holds  in 
general  with  regard  to  all  organic  impreffions.  It  is 
otherwife  in  hv*aring  and  feeing  :  a  found  is  perceiv- 
ed as  in  itfelf  agreeable,  and  raifes  in  the  hearer  a 
pleafant  emotion  :  an  objed  of  fight  appears  in  itfelf* 
agreeable,  and  raifes  in  the  fpeftator  a  pleafant  emo- 
tion. Thefc  are  accurately  diftinguiihed  :  the  pleaf- 
ant emotion  is  felt  as  within  the  mind  ;  the  agreea- 
blenefs  of  the  objeft  is  placed  upon  the  object,  and 
is  perceived  as  one  of  its  qualities  or  properties.  The 
agreeable  appearance  of  an  object  of  %ht  is  termed 
beauty  ;  and  the  difagreeable  appearance  of  fuch  an 
objeQ:  is  termed  uglincfs. 

22.  But  though  beauty  and  uglinefs,  in  their  proper 
and  genuine  fignification,  are  confined  to  objeds  of 
light  5  yet  in  a  more  lax  and  figurative  fignification, 
they  are  applied  to  objects  of  the  other  fenfes  :  they 
jare  fom£times  applied  even  to  abftracl  terms  :  for  it 
is  not  unufual  to  fay,  a  beautiful  Theorem^  a  beautiful 
cenfiitution  of  go-vertunent, 

23.  A  line  compofed  by  a  fingle  rule,  is  perceived 
and  faid  to  be  regular  :  a  flraight  line,  a  parabola, 
a  hyperbola,  the  circumference  of  a  circle,  and  of  an 
ellipfe,  are  all  of  them  regular  lines.  A  figure  com- 
pofed by  a  fingle  rule,  is  perceived^  and  faid  to  be 
regular  :  a  circle,  a  fquare,  a  hexagon,  an  equilat* 
eral  triangle,  are  regular  figures,  being  compofed  by 
a  fingle  rule,  that  determines  the  form  of  each. 
When  the  form  of  a  line  or  of  a  figure  is  afcertained 
by  a  fingle  rule  that  Ieav.es  nothing  arbitrary,  the 
line  and  the  figure  are  faid  to  be  perfe^tlv  regu- 
lar ;  which  is  the  cafe  oi  the  figures  now  mentioned, 
5ind  the  cafe  of  a  flraight  line  and  of  the  circumfer- 
ence of  a  circle.  A  figure  and  a  line  that  require 
more  than  one  rule  for  their  conflruclion,  or  than 
bave  any  of  their  parts  left  arbitrary,  are  not  perfecl- 
if  regular  j  a  parallelogram  and  a   rhomb  are  Mn 

13  b  3  regular 


40  5  Terms  Defined  or  Explained. ' 

regular  than  a  fquare  ;  the  parallelogram  being  fub^ 
jeded  to  no  rule  as  to  the  length  of  fides,  other 
than  that  the  oppofite  fides  be  equal  ;  the  rhomb  be- 
ing fubjeded  to  no  rule  as  to  its  angles,  other  than 
that  the  oppofite  angles  be  equal :  for  the  fame  rea- 
fon,  the  circumference  of  an  ellipfe,  the  form  of 
Avhich  is  fufceptible  of  much  variety,  fs  lefs  regular 
than  that  of  a  circle. 

24.  Regularity  properly  fpeaking,  belongs,  like 
beaut)'-,  to  objeds  of  fight ;  and,  hke  beauty,,  it  is  3.U 
fo  applied  figuratively  to  other  objeds  :  thus  we  fay, 
<7  regular  governntent,  a  regular  compofitlon  of  mufic^  and. 
Tegular  difciplinc. 

25.  When  two  figures  are  compofed  of  fimilar 
parts,  they  are  faid  to  be  uniform.  Perfcd  uniform- 
ity is  where  the  conltituent  parts  of  two  figures  are 
equal  :  thus  two  cubes  of  the  fame  dimenfions  are 
perfedly  uniform  in  all  their  parts.  Uniformity  lefs 
perfed  is,  where  the  parts  mutually  correfpond,  but 
without  t^ing'' equal  :  the  uniformity  is  imperfed  be- 
ty/een  two  fquares  or  cubes  of  unequal  dimenfions  ; 
and  ffiil  more  fo  between  a  fquare  ancl  a  parallelogram. 

26.  Uniformity  is  alfo  applicable  to  the  conditu- 
ent  parts  of  the  fame  figure.  The  confiituent  parts 
of  a  fquaie  are  perfedly  uniform  ;  its  fides  are  equal 
and  its  angles  are  equal.  Wherein  then  differs  reg- 
ularity from  uniformity  ?  for  a  figure  compofed  of 
uniform  parts  muft  undoubtedly  be  regular.  Reg-*, 
uiarity  is  predicated  of  a  figure  confidered  as  a  whole 
compofed  of  uniform  parts  :  uniformity  is  predicat- 
ed of  thefe  parts  as  related  to  each  other  by  refem- 
blance  :  we  fay,  a  fquare  is  a  regular,  not  an  uniforn\ 
figure  ;  but  with  refped  to  the  conflituent  parts  of  a 
■iquaiej  we  ly  not,  that  they  are  regular,  but  tha$ 
they  are  unifier m. 

27.  In  things  deilined,  for  the  fa'me  ufe,  as  legs, 
arms,  eyes,  windov/s,  fpoons,  we  exped  uniformity^ 
Proportion  ou^ht  to  govern   parts  intended  for  dif^ 

fereni; 


^Terms  Defined  or  Explained*  407 

ferent  ufes :  v/e  require  a  certain  proportion  between 

a  leg  and  an  arm  ;  in  the  bafe,  the  Ihaft,  the  capital 

of  a  pillar  ;  and  in    the  length,   the   breadth,   the 

height  of  a   room  :  fome  proportion  is  alfo  required 

an  different  things  intimately  conne8;ed,  as  between  a 

dwelling-houfe,  the  garden,  and  the  ftables  ;  but  we 

require  no  proportion  among  things  ilightly  conneft- 

ed,  as  between  the  table  a  man  writes  on  and  the  dog 

that  follows  him«     Proportion  and  uniformity  never 

coincide  :  things  equal  are  uniform  ;  but  proportion 

is,  never  applied  to  them  :  the  tour  fides  and  angles  of 

a  fquare  are  equal  and  perfectly  uniform  ;  but  we  fay 

iiot  that  they  are  proportional.     Thus,  proportion  al- 

v/ays  implies  inequality  or  difference  j  but  then  it  im- 

phes  it  to  a  certain  degree  only  :  the  molt  agreeable 

proportion  refembles  a  maximum  in  mathematics  ;  a 

greater  or  lefs  inequality  or  difference  is  lefs  agreeable. 

28.   Order  regards  various  particulars.     Firft,  in 

iracing  or  furveying  objeds,  we  are  directed  by   a 

fenfe  of  order  :  we  perceive  it  to  be   more  orderly, 

that  we  fhould  pafs  from  a  principal  to  its  acceflbries, 

and  from    a  whole   to  its  parts,  than  in  the  contrary 

diredion.     Next,    with  refped   to   the    pofition   of 

things,   a  fenfe  of  order  direfts  us  to  place  together 

things  intimately    connected.     Thirdly,  in   placing 

things  that  have  no  natural  connexion,    that   order 

appears  the   mod  perfeQ:,  where  the  particulars  are 

made  to  bear  the  llrongeil  relation  to  each  other  that 

pofition  can   give  them.     Thus   paralielifm  is   the 

ilrongefl    relation    that   pofition    can   beftow    upon 

llraight  lines  :  if  they  be  fo  placed  as  by  produdiori 

to    interfeft,   the   relation  is   lefs  perfedt,     A   large 

body   in   the  middls,  and  tv\'-o    e^jual  bodies  of  lefs 

fize,  one  on  each  fide,  is  an  order  that  produces  the 

ftrongeft  relation  the    bodies   are   fufceptible  of  by 

pofition  :  the  relation  between  the  two  equal  bodies 

would  be  ftronger  by  juxtapofition ;  but  tb«y  woul4 

liot  both  have  the  fame  relation  to  the  third. 

jBb4  29.  TU^ 


^o8  Terms  Defined  or  Explained. 

29.  The  beauty  or  agreeablenefs  of  a  vifible  ob^ 
jecl,  is  perceived  as  one  of  its  qualities  ;  which  holds 
not  only  in  the  primary  perception,  but  alio  in  the 
fecondary  perception  or  idea  :  and  hence  the  pleafure 
that  ariles  from  the  idea  of  a  beautiful  objed:.  An 
idea  of  imagination  is  alfo  pleafant,  though  in  a  lower 
degree  than  an  idea  of  memory,  wjlere  the  objects 
are  of  the  fame  idnd  j  for  an  evident  leafon, 
that  the  former  is  more  diftind  and  lively  than  the 
latter.  But  this  inferiority  in  ideas  of  imagination, 
is  more  than  compenfated  by  their  greatnefs  and  va- 
riety, which  are  boundlefs ;  for  by  the  imagination, 
exerted  without  control,  we  can  fabricate  ideas  of 
iiner  vifible  objects,  of  more  noble  and  heroic  actions, 
of  greater  wickednefs,  of  more  furprifmg  events, 
than  ever  in  fact  exifled  :  and  in  communicating  fuch 
ideas  by  words,  painting,  fculpture,  he.  the  influ- 
ence of  the  imagination  is  no  lefs  extenfive  than  great. 

30.  In  the  nature  of  every  man,  there  is  fomewhat 
original,  which  diflinguilhes  him  from  others,  which 
tends  to  form  his  charafter,  and  to  make  him  meek 
or  fiery,  candid  or  deceitful,  refolute  or  timorous, 
cheerful  or  morofe.  This  original  bent,  termed  dif- 
■pofition,  mull  be  diftinguifhed  from  a  principle  :  the 
latter,  fignifying  a  law  of  human  nature,  makes  }'^art 
of  the  common  nature  of  man  ;  the  former  makes 
part  of  the  nature  of  this  or  that  man.  Propenfity  is 
a  name  common  to  both  ;  for  it  fignifies  a  principle 
as  well  as  a  difpofition. 

31.  .i^'r7/(5«,  fignifying  a  fettled  bent  of  mind  to^ 
ward  a  particular  being  or  thing,  occupies  a  middle 
place  between  difpofition  on  the  one  hand,  and  paf- 
fion  on  the  other.  It  is  clearly  diftinguiiliable  from 
difpofition,  which,  being  a  branch  of  one's  nature 
originally,  muft  exift  before  there  can  be  an  oppor- 
tunity to  exert  it  upon  any  particular  objeQ:  ;  where- 
as affedfion  can  never  be  original,  becaufe,  having 
<i  fpecial  relation  to  a  particular  objedt,   it  cannot 

exift 


Terms  Defined  or  Explained,  4.09 

exifl  till  the  obje6t  have  once  at  leaft  been  prefented. 
It  is  no  lefs  clearly  diftinguifhable  from  paflion,  which, 
depending  on  the  real  or  ideal  prefence  of  its  object,, 
vanifhes  with  its  obje<ft  :  whereas  afftdion  is  a  lalting 
connedion  ;  and,  hke  other  connections,  fubfifls  even 
when  we  do  not  think  of  the  perfon,  A  fan^ihar 
example  will  clear  the  whole.  I  have  from  natul'e  a 
difpofition  to  gratitude,  which,  through  want  of  an 
object,  happens  never  to  be  exerted  ;  and  which 
therefore  is  unknown  even  to  myfelf.  Another  who 
has  the  fame  difpofition,  meets  with  a  kindly  office 
which  makes  him  grateful  to  his  benefactor  :  an  in- 
timate connection  is  formed  between  them,  termed 
affe£tion^  which,  like  other  connections,  has  a  per- 
manent exiftence,  though  not  always  in  view.  The 
affeCtion  for  the  moft  part  lies  dormant,  till  an  op- 
portunity offer  for  exerting  it  :  in  that  circumflance 
it  is  converted  into  the  pafiion  of  gratitude  ;  and  the 
opportunity  is  greedily  leized  of  teftifying  gratitude 
in  the  warm^ft  manner. 

32.  A-verfton^  I  think,  is  oppofed  to  affeCtlon  ;  not 
to  defire,  as  it  commonly  is;  We  have  an  affeCtion. 
to  one  perfon  ;  we  have  an  averfion  to  another  :  the 
form^er  difpofes  us  to  do  good  to  Its  object,  the  latter 
to  do  ill. 

2^2i'  What  is  a  fentiment  ?  It  Is  not  a  perception  ; 
for  a  perception  fignifies  the  act  by  which  we  become 
confcious  of  external  objects.  It  is  not  confciouf- 
nefs  of  an  internal  action,  fiich  as  thinking,  fufpend- 
ing  thought,  inclining,  refolving,w-illing,  S:c.  Neither 
is  it  the  conception  of  a  relation  among  objects  ;  a 
conception  of  that  kind  being  termed  opinion.  The 
tQYxnfentimcnt  is  appropriated  to  fuch  thoughts  as  ar» 
prompted  by  paffion. 

34.  Attention  Is  tha*:  date  of  mind  which  prepares 
one  to  receive  impreihons.  According  to  the  degree 
of  attention,  objeCtf.  make  a  llrong  or  welk  impref- 

fion. 


410  Xenns  Defined  or  Explained, 

fion.*  Attention  is  requifite  even  to  the  fimple  aft 
of  ieeing  :  the  eye  can  take  in  a  confiderabie  field  at 
one  look  :  but  no  objeft  in  the  field  is  feen  dis- 
tinctly, but  that  fingly,  -which  fixes  the  atten- 
tion :  in  a  profound  reverie  that  totally  occupies 
the  attention,  we  fcarce  fee  what  is  diredly  before 
us.  in  a  train  of  perceptions,  the  attention  being 
divided  among  various  objefts,  no  particular  objed 
makes  fuch  a  figure  as  it  would  do  fingle  and  apart. 
Jlcnce,  the  ftiiinefs  of  night  contributes  to  terror, 
there  being  nothing  to  divert  the  attention  : 

Horror  ubique  aniraos,  fimul  ipfa  filentia  terrent, 

JE'ieid,  il, 

Zara.     Silence  and  folitude  are  ev'ry  where  ! 
Through  all  the  gloomy  ways  and  iron  doors 
That  hither  lead,  nor  human  face  nor  voice 
Is  fcen  or  heard.     A  dreadtul  din  was  wont 
T»>  grate  the  fenfe,   when  enter'd  here  from  groans 
And  howls  of  flaves  condemn"d,  from  clink  ot  chains^ 
And  craih  ot  rufty  bars  and  creaking  hinges  : 
And  ever  a  ul  anon  the  fight  was  dalh'd 
With  fri^iuful  faces  and  the  meagre  looks 
Of  grint  and  ghaltly  executioners. 
Yet  m;)re  this  tfillnefs  terrifies  my  foul 
Than  did  that  fcene  of  complicated  horrors. 

Mounimg  Bride y  a£l  <,>  fc,  8. 

And  hence  it  is,  that  an  obje6l  feen  at  the  termina- 
tion of  a  confined  view,  is  more  agreeable  than  when 
feea  in  a  group  with  the  furrounding  objects  ; 

The  crow  do'.h  fing  as  fweetly  as  the  lark 
When  neither  is  attended  \  and,  1  think. 

The 

*  Bacon,  in  his  Natural  Hiflorr.  makes  the  following  obfervations. 
6.  unds  aie  mclioia'cd  bv  the  intenfion  of  the  (enl'e,  where  the  common 
icnfei-  colle6}ed  moft  to  the  particular  I'cnre  of  hoaring,  and  'he  light 
furpendtd.  Theref  irc  f  unds  are  fweeter,  as  well  as  greater,  in  the  night 
than  in  the  day  ;  and  1  fuppofe  they  are  fweeter  to  blind  men  ihan  to 
others:  and  it  is  manifef),  that  between  fleepin;^  and  waking,  when  all ' 
the  {enfes  are  bound  and  fufpcnded,  mufic  is  far  Tweeter  than  whtuonc  i? 
fully  wakirif. 


Terms  Defined  or  Explained*.  ^I'f 

The  nightingale,  it  llie  lliould  ling  by  day, 
When  ev'ry  goufe  is  cackling,  woiiltt  be  thought 
No  bcticr  a  muhcian  than  the  wren.- 

Alcrchant  of  Venice. 

35.  In  matters  of  flight  importance,  attention  is 
moftly  directed  by  wiU  ;  and  for  that  realon,  it  is 
our  own  iault  if  trifling  objedls  make  any  deep  im-> 
preffion.  Had  -^ve  power  equally  to  withhold  our 
fittention  from  matters  of  importance,  we  might  be 
proof  againil  any  deep  imprcflion.  But  our  power 
fails  us  here  :  an  mrerefling  object  feizes  and  fixes 
the  attention  beyond  the  poffibility  of  control  ;  and 
while  our  attention  is  thus,  forcibly  attached  to  one 
pbjeQ:,  others  may  folicit  for  admittance  ;  but  in 
vain,  for  they  will  not  be  regarded.  Thus  -a  fmall 
lirisfortune  is  fcarce  felt  in  prefence  of  a  greater  ; 

Lear.     Thou  think'il  'tis  much,    that  this  contentious 
llorm 
Invades  us  to  the  fl^'in  ;   {c>  'tis  to  thee  ; 
But  where  the  greater  malady  is  hx'd, 
The  lellcr  is  fcarce  felt.     Thou'dll  Ihun  a  bear  ; 
But  if  thy  flight  lay  tow'rd  the  roaring  fea, 
Thou'dft  meet  the  bear  i'  th'  mouth.     When  the  mind's 

free, 
The  body's  delicate  :  the  temped:  in  my  mind 
Doth  from  my  fcnies  take  all  feeling  elfe, 
gave  what  beats  there.  King  Lear,  qlI  t^./c.  5. 

^6.  Genus,  fpecks^  ?iicdiJicntion,  are  terms  invented 
to  diflinguilhbcings  from  each  other.  Individuals 
are  diftinguiflicd  by  their  C[ualitie3  :  a  number  of  in- 
dividuals confidcred  with  refpect  to  quaUties  that  dif- 
tinguifh  them  from  others,  is  termed  ■A.fpecles  ;  a  plu- 
rality oi /pedes  coniidered  with  refpeQ:  to  their  diftin- 
guifhing  qualities,  is  termed  a  genus.  That  quality 
which  dlilmguilheth  one  genus,  one  fpecies,  or  even 
one  individual,  from  another,  is  termed  a  inodifica- 
t'lon- :  thus  the  fame  paiticyhir  that  is  termed  a  pro^. 

erty 


4 1  i  Terms  Defined  or  Explamd!', 

erty  or  quality  when  confidered  as  belonging  to  an  in- 
dividual, or  a  clafs  of  individuals,  is  termed  a  jnodifi' 
cation  when  confidered  as  diflinguifhing  the  individ- 
ual or  the  clafs  from  another  :  a  black  fkin  and  foft 
curled  hair,  are  properties  of  a  negro  :  the  fame 
circumftances  confidered  as  marks  that  dlftinguifh  a 
negro  from  a  man  of  a  different  fpecies,  are  denom- 
inated modifications. 

37.  Objefts  of  fight,  being  complex,  are  diftin- 
guifhable  into  the  feveral  particulars  that  enter  into 
the  compofition  :  thefe  objects  are  all  of  them  col- 
oured ;  and  they  all  have  length,  breadth,  and  thick- 
nefs.  When  I  behold  a  fpreading  oak,  I  diftinguifli 
in  that  objecl,  fize,  figure,  colour,  and  fometimes 
motion  :  in  a  flowing  river  I  diftinguifh  colour,  fig- 
ure, and  conflant  motion  ;  a  dye  has  colour,  black 
fpots,  fix  plain  furfaces,  all  equal  and  uniform.  Ob- 
jeds  of  touch  have  all  of  them  extenfion  :  fome  of 
them  are  felt  rough,  fome  fmooth  :  fome  of  them 
are  hard,  fome  foft.  With  refpett  to  the  other 
fenfes,  fome  of  their  objeds  are  fimpie,  fome  com- 
plex :  a  found,  a  tafte,  a  fmell,  may  be  fo  fimpie  as 
not  to  be  dillinguifnable  into  parts  :  others  are  per- 
ceived to  be  compounded  of  different  founds,  difFer- 
ent  taftes,  and  different  fmells. 

38.  The  eye  at  one  look  can  grafp  a  number  of  ob- 
jefts,  as  of  trees  in  a  field, or  menin  a  crowd:  thefe  ob- 
jects having  each  a  feparate  and  independent  exiffence, 
are  diftinguifhable  in  the  mind,  as  well  as  in  reality ; 
and  there  is  nothing  more  eafy  than  to  abdract  from 
fome  and  to  confine-  our  contemplation  to  others.  A 
large  oak  with  its  fpreading  branches  fixes  our  at- 
tention upon  itfelf,  and  abflrad  us  from  the  fhrubs 
that  furround  it.  In  the  fame  manner,  with  refpe«S: 
to  compound  founds,  tailes,  or  fmells,  we  can  fix 
our  thoughts  upon  any  one  of  the  component  parts, 
labftrading  our  altenrion  from  the  rell.     The  power 

ef 


Iterms  Defined  or  Explained*  W'^i 

iDf  abilra£lion  is  not  confined  to  objeds  that  are  fep- 
arable  in  reality  as  well  as  mentally  ;  but  alfo  takes 
place  where  there  can  be  no  real  reparation :  the  fize, 
the  figure,  the  colour  of  a  tree,  are  infeparably  con- 
ne^ltd,  and  have  no  independent  exiftence ;  the 
fame  of  ktigth,  breadth,  and  thicknefs  :  and  yet  we 
can  menially  confine  our  obfervations  to  one  of  thefe^ 
abfh-aftirig  from  the  reft.  Here  abflraftion  takes 
place  "vheie  there  cannot  be  a  real  feparation. 

39.  Space  and  time  have  occafioned  much  meta- 
phyfical  jargon  j  but  after  the  power  of  abftraclion 
is  explained  as  above,  there  remains  no  difSculty 
about  them.  It  is  mentioned  above,  that  fpace  as 
well  as  place  enter  into  the  perception  of  every  vih- 
ble  object :  a  tree  is  perceived  as  exifting  in  a  certain 
place,  and  as  occupying  a  certain  fpace.  Now,  by 
the  power  of  abftraftion,  fpace  may  be  confidered 
abftraftedly  from  the  body  that  occupies  it ;  and 
hence  the  abftradl  term  fpace.  In  the  fame  manner, 
exiftence  may  be  confidered  abftra<Sledly  from  any 
particular  thing  that  exifts  ;  and  place  may  be  con- 
sidered abftra6tedly  from  any  particular  thing  that 
may  be  in  it.  Every  feries  or  fuccefTion  of  things^ 
fuggefts  the  idea  of  time  ;  and  time  may  be  confider- 
ed abftradledly  from  any  feries  of  fuccefTion.  In  the 
fame  manner,  we  acquire  the  abflract  term  motion, 
reft,  number,  and  a  thoufand  other  abdracl  terms  j 
an  excellent  contrivance  for  improving  fpeech,  as 
without  it  fpeech  would  be  wofully  imperfed:.  Brute 
animals  may  have  fome  obfcure  notion  of  thefe  cir- 
cumftances,  as  connected  with  particular  obje<5ts  : 
an  ox  probably  perceives  that  he  takes  longer  time  to 
go  round  a  long  ridge  in  the  plough,  than  a  fhort 
one  ;  and  he  probably  perceives  when  he  is  one  of 
four  in  the  yoke,  or  only  one  of  tv/o.  But  the 
power  of  abftraclion  is  not  beftowed  on  brute  ani- 
mals ;  becaufe  to  them  it  would  be  altogether  ufe- 
icfs,  as  they  are  incapable  of  fpeech. 

40.  This 


4*4  Terms  T)ejined  or  Explainea* 

40.  This  pov/er  of  abftradlon  is  of  great  utility*.' 
A  carpenter  confiders  a  log  of  wood  with  regard  to 
liardnefs,  firmnefs,  colour,  and  texture  :  a  philofo- 
pher,  negleOiing  thefe  properties,  makes  the  log  un- 
dergo a  chemical  analyfis  ;  and  examines  its  tafte,  its 
fmell,  and  its  component  piinciples  :  the  geometri- 
cian confines  his  reafoning  to  the  figure,  the  length, 
breadth,  and  thicknefs.  In  general,  every  artift,  ab- 
ilrading  from  all  other  properties,  confines  his  obfer- 
vations  to  thofe  -which  have  a  more  immediate  con- 
netlion  with  his  profeffion. 

41.  It  is  obferved  above,  p.  401.  that  there  can  be 
iio  fuch  thing  as  a  genef'al  idea  ;  that  all  our  percep- 
tions are  of  particular  objeds,  and  diat  our  fecondary 
perceptions  or  ideas  niufl  be  equally  fo.  Precifely, 
for  the  fame  reafon,  there  can  be  no  fuch  thing  as  an 
abllrad"  idea.  We  cannot  form  an  ide'a  of  a  part 
without  taking  in  the  whole  ;  nor  of  motion,  colour, 
figure,  independent  of  a  body.  No  man  will  fay 
that  he  can  form  any  idea  of  beauty,  till  he  think  of 
a  perfon  endued  with  that  quality  ;  nor  that  he  can 
form  an  idea  of  weight,  till  he  takes  under  confider- 
ation  a  body  that  is  weighty.  And  when  he  takes 
under  confideration  a  body  endued  with  one  or  other 
of  the  properties  mentioned,  the  idea  he  forms  is  not 
an  abftrad  or  general  idea,  but  the  idea  of  a  partic- 
ular body  with  its  properties.  But  though  a  part  and 
the  whole,  a  fabje£l  and  its  attributes,  an  effeft  and 
its  caufe,  are  fo  inrimately  connecled,  as  that  tin  idea 
cannot  be  formed  of  the  one  independent  of  the 
other  ;  yet  we  can  reafon  upon  the  one  abitrading 
from  the  other. 

This  is  done  by  worJs  fignifying  the  thing  to 
which  the  reafoning  is  confined  ;  and  fuch  words 
are  denominated  nbjirad  terms.  The  meaning  and 
ufe  of  an  abflracl  term'  is  well  underftood,  thou'';h 
of  itfelf,  unlcis  other  particulars  betaken  in,  it  rciifes 
no  image  nor  idea  in  the  mind.     In  language  it  ferves 

excellent 


^erms  Denned  or  Explahieit  4?^ 

€:>^ceilent  purpofes  ;  by  it  different  figures,  different 
colours,  can  be  compared,  without  the  trouble  of 
conceiving  them  as  belonging  to  any  particular  fub-* 
}e6t  ;  and  they  contribute  with  words  fignificant  to 
raife  images  or  ideas  in  the  mind. 

42.  Th^  power  of  abftraftion  is  bellowed  on  man, 
for  the  purpofe  folely  of  reafoning.  It  tends  greatly 
to  the  facility  as  well  as  clearnefs  of  any  procefs  of 
rea'oning,  that,  laying  afide  every  other  circumftance, 
we  can  confine  our  attention  to  the  fmgle  property 
we  defire  to  inveftigate. 

43.  Abflracr  terms  may  be  feparated  into  three 
different  kinds,  all  equally  fubfervient  to  the  reafon- 
ing faculty.  Individuals  appear  to  have  no  end  ;  and 
did  we  not  poffefs  the  faculty  of  diftributing  them  into 
claffes,  the  mind  would  be  loft  in  an  endlefs  maze, 
and  no  progrefs  be  made  in  knowledge.  It  is  by  the 
faculty  of  abftraftion  that  we  diflribute  beings  into 
genera  2J\difpedes  :  finding  a  number  of  individuals 
connected  by  certain  qualities  common  to  all,  we  give 
a  name  to  thefe  individuals  confidered  as  thus  con- 
nected, which  name,  by  gatheiing  them  together  into 
©ne  clafs,  jferves  to  exprefs  the  whole  of  thefe  indi- 
viduals as  diflincl  from  others.  Thus  the  word 
animal  ferves  to  denote  every  being  that  can  move  vol- 
untarily ;  and  the  words  man^  horfe^  Uon^  'isfc.  anfwer 
fimilar  purpofes.  This  is  the  firlt  and  moft  common 
fort  of  abitractloii  ;  and  it  is  of  the  moil  extenfive 
ufe,  by  enabling  us  to  comprehend  in  our  reafoning 
whole  kinds  and  forts,  inflead  of  individuals  without 
end.  The  next  fort  of  abftract  terms  comprehends 
a  number  of  individual  objefts,  confidered  as  con- 
nected by  fome  occafional  relation.  A  great  number 
of  perfons  colleded  in  one  place,  without  any  other 
relation  but  merely  that  of  contiguity,  ate  denominated 
a  croiud  :  in  forming  this  term,  we  abftracl  from  fex, 
from  age,  from  condition,  from  drefs,  ^c.  A  num- 
ber 


«}.i^  "Tehns  Dejlned  or  Explained 

ber  of  perfons  conneded  by  the  fame  laws  and  by  th^ 
fame  government,  are  termed  a  nation  :  and  a  num- 
ber oi  men  under  the  fame  military  command,  are 
termed  an  army.  A  third  fort  of  abftraftion  is, 
v,'here  a  fmgle  property  or  part,  which  may  be  com- 
mon to  many  individuals,  is  feleded  to  bg  the  fubjeft 
of  our  contemplation  ;  for  example,  whitenefs,  heat, 
beauty,  length,  roundnefs,  head,  arm. 

44.  Abftracl  terms  are  a  happy  invention  :  it  is  by 
their  means  chiefly,  that  the  particulars  which  make 
the  fubjetl  of  our  reafoning,  are  brought  into  clofs 
union,  and  feparated  from,  all  others  however  natur- 
ally connefted.  Without  the  aid  of  fuch  terms,  the 
mind  could  nevet  be  kept  Heady  to  its  proper  fubjed:, 
but  be  perpetually  in  hazard  of  alTuming  foreign  cir- 
cumflances,  or  neglecling  what  are  effential.  We 
can,  without  the  aid  of  language,  compare  real 
objecls  by  intuition,  when  thefe  objecls  are  prefent ; 
and  when  abfent,  we  can  compare  them  in  idea. 
But  when  we  advance  farther,  and  attempt  to  make 
inferences  and  draw  conclufions,  we  always  employ 
abftrad:  terms,  even  in  thinking  5  it  would  be  as  dif- 
ficult to  reafon  without  them,  as  to  perform  operations 
in  algebra  without  figns  ;  for  there  is  fcarce  any  rea- 
foning without  fome  degree  of  abllraciion,  and  we 
cannot  eafily  abltraft  without  ufmg  abftraft  terms. 
Hence  it  follows,  that  without  language  man  would 
fcarce  be  a  rational  being. 

45.  The  fame  thing,  in  different  refpe6ts,  has  dif- 
ferent name?.  With  refpeft  to  certain  qualities,  it  is 
termed  2.  fiihjlance  ;  \i\\h  refpecl  to  other  quahties,  a 
body  ;  and  with  refpeft  to  qualities  of  all  forts,  ?ifuh^ 
jcd.  It  is  termed  •d.pajjl've  fubjecl  with  refpedt  to  an 
action  exerted  upon  it  ;  an  ohjcEl  with  refpeft  to  a 
percipient  ;  a  caufe  with  refpc£t  to  the  effeft  it  pro- 
duces J  and  an  c£(id  with  refped  to  its  caufe. 

INDEX. 


.VI 


's^-  - 


.;?•' 


,-^:'\ 


* .    .  .    ^   V 

'*i  .ft"*  /<p 


